#less common than seeing someone like that walking around in his country of origin

[stargazingellie]

lazarus is risen

chapter four: gifts from hestia

(masterlist) (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

hello beautiful people <3 here's part 4!!

synopsis: After deciding to let Abby live, Ellie has returned to Jackson. But given everything she's lost, it no longer feels like home. She's sad, she's confused, and above all else, she is so, so very lonely. So when a group of strangers shows up and offers her a second chance, she might just take them up on that. Ellie must decide between staying in Jackson – and living with the ghosts of her past – or leaving in search of new meaning. Whatever she decides, her choice will have far-reaching consequences – not just for herself, or for Jackson, but for all of humanity.

Or,

Ellie saves the world, maybe?

(ellie williams x reader, post-tlou2, useless lesbians, slow burn, cross country road trip, lots of references to greek mythology, etc.)

Hestia: Greek goddess of hearth and home. Originates from the Greek word “Ἑστία,” meaning “hearth” or “fireside.”

[Ellie]

Ellie could feel the stares before they even got to the town center. As news does in small towns, word of the new arrivals and their conversation the night before seemed to have already made its way around the entire community. Ellie could hear murmured conversations as she passed by, and it was obvious she was the topic of interest. After all, it wasn’t very often that a group of strangers showed up and took someone with them when they left. Even less common, though, was the revelation of that person’s immunity, which inevitably became the talk of the town.

Ellie kept her head down as she walked. Never before had so many people known her secret, and despite having no control over her situation, she still felt guilty. She felt, of all people, she was the last person who deserved such a gift. And now, walking through the town center, everyone else seemed to feel that way too.

When they arrived at the dining hall, the newcomers were already waiting. When Dr. Reynolds noticed the packed bag on Ellie’s back, his face lit up. He clasped his hands together and exclaimed, “Ms. Williams! We’re thrilled you’ve decided to join us.” Next to him, Lucy smiled widely.

“Uh… yeah, no problem,” Ellie replied awkwardly. She couldn’t help but notice other townspeople taking a keen interest in their interaction. Part of her wished Dr. Reynolds would tone it down a few decibels, and she tried to swallow her embarrassment.

Lucy fished around for something in her bag. “Here, we got some food for you already,” she said as she handed Ellie some canned goods. “We didn’t know what you would decide, but he’s the eternal optimist.” She nodded her head towards her father, who grinned with excitement. “Says he had a good feeling about you.”

Ellie looked between the two and, against her better judgment, felt herself warming up to the pair. Hard as she tried, it was difficult to dislike them. “Thanks,” she said.

Putting her hand on Ellie’s shoulder, Maria said, “Well, let’s get you all on the road then, shall we? The gate is this way.”

After a short walk, the group arrived at the entrance and Maria gave the order to open the doors. The newcomers made their way through the opening, but Ellie lingered inside. Wanting to say something, she turned to Maria, but words escaped her. Maria, usually so eloquent, seemed at a loss too. Instead, the woman reached forward and embraced Ellie in a tight hug. 

Still holding on, Maria said, “Ellie, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I want you to know how much I care about you. You’ve been through more than anyone should ever have to go through, and I’ve seen how much it’s weighed on you these past few years. Whatever happens out there, I hope you find the peace you’re looking for.”

Ellie exhaled deeply. “Me, too,” was all she said. It was all she needed to say.

They were interrupted by someone nearby clearing their throat. Turning to see who it was, Ellie almost couldn’t believe who she saw. Even after so many years, she was still surprised by how similar he and Joel looked –  the same deep lines around his mouth and nose, the same tired eyes. Well, just eye, now.

“Hey, Tommy,” she said as she approached cautiously. She’d barely spoken to Tommy since returning, and she wasn’t sure what his intentions were. They both stood with their hands in their pockets.

“Hey, Ellie,” he replied. Even the way they said her name was the same. “I, uh… I heard you were leaving.” Ellie gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded in confirmation.

“Well, I just wanted to see you before you left. I, uh… I wanted to give you this.” He took something out of his pocket and handed it to her. It was small and flat, and displayed a hand drawn picture of a moth. She instantly recognized it as one of Joel’s guitar picks.

Tommy continued nervously, “It was one of his favorites. Kept the damn thing on him all the time. Thought you might like to have it.”

She could recall many a night when she had watched Joel on the porch with his guitar, that very same pick in hand. The memories brought a soft smile to her face.

“He’d be proud of you, y’know,” Tommy said quietly. “No doubt in my mind about it.”

Ellie felt her throat tighten. Not wanting to cry, all she responded with was, “Thanks, Tommy.”

He cleared his throat again. “Right, well, don’t wanna hold you up. Good luck out there.” He gave a final nod and walked back toward the center of town. Ellie stood watching him for a moment, then turned back towards the gate. She waved to a tearful Maria as the large doors closed behind her.

The short hike was largely uneventful. The early-autumn air meant they didn’t work up much of a sweat as they made their way through the forest. Lucy and Dr. Reynolds occasionally conversed about the wildlife, but the other three mostly remained silent. After about an hour, they stumbled out onto a paved road and approached a large truck parked nearby. They loaded their belongings into the back of the military-grade vehicle and took their seats in the cab. In the backseat, Lucy sat in the middle, with Dr. Reynolds to her left and Ellie to her right. Ellie leaned her head on the window to watch the foliage pass by, trying to cement into memory the place she once called home.

They stopped briefly every few hours to stretch their legs, until the sun began to set and Jacobs suggested they make camp for the night. The two guards left to check their surroundings while Lucy and Dr. Reynolds began to unpack the truck. They all moved with such efficiency that Ellie could tell they’d completed this routine many times before.

As he retrieved items from the truck, Dr. Reynolds said to Ellie, “I’m going to start a fire and get some food going. Would you mind helping unpack the rest? Lucy can show you what to grab.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away. Lucy stood in the bed of the truck and waved Ellie over. When Ellie joined her, Lucy handed her items to carry.

“It’s mostly just sleeping bags and blankets,” Lucy explained, jumping down from the truck with a roll of fabric under each arm. “We have tents, too, but we only put them up when it rains. Saves time.”

“Makes sense,” Ellie replied.

“Alvaro and Jacobs alternate taking watch during the night. We’ve offered to help, but they insist on doing it themselves.” Lucy gave an exaggerated eye roll and smiled playfully. “Helps them feel like real macho-men, I think. But whatever floats their boat, I guess. More sleep for me.”

They finished laying the sleeping bags around the fire as Alvaro and Jacobs returned from their patrol of the area.

“Looks quiet,” Alvaro confirmed.

“That’s what I like to hear!” said Dr. Reynolds as he handed the men bowls of hot food. He then handed one to Ellie, which she accepted gratefully, realizing she hadn’t eaten all day.

She watched the fire as she ate, listening quietly to the others’ conversations. She didn’t know any of the people they were talking about, and she was more interested in Lucy and Dr. Reynolds’ relationship anyway. Ellie had known them for less than twenty-four hours, but it didn’t even take a whole minute to see how much they cared for each other. Lucy feigned annoyance during his tangents and ramblings, but she looked at him with such admiration it was clear she loved him deeply. Their back-and-forth was so easy, so comfortable. Observing their dynamic made Ellie a bit jealous, but mostly it just made her sad. It felt like watching an alternate version of her life – one that could have been, but would never be.

She pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She lost herself in thought as she gazed sadly into the fire, only vaguely aware of Dr. Reynolds asking Jacobs a question. She didn’t notice Lucy until the other girl sat down right beside her.

“You looked cold,” Lucy explained quietly as she wrapped a blanket around Ellie’s shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“Warmer,” Ellie replied cautiously, surprised by the kind gesture.

Lucy laughed. “Well, that’s good. But I meant, like, how are you feeling… otherwise? You looked a little upset.”

Ellie scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Oh, yeah, um, I’m okay. Just… missing someone, I guess.”

Lucy nodded solemnly. “That’s understandable. Did you get to say goodbye to them, at least?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, he, uh… he’s been gone a long time.”

“Oh. I’m really sorry, Ellie.”

Ellie smiled sadly. “Thanks.”

Lucy absentmindedly ran a thumb over the tattoo on her wrist. Those dots – they seemed so familiar, but Ellie still couldn’t place where she’d seen them before. Lucy gazed at the fire as she said softly, “I know what it’s like to miss someone, too.” Ellie watched as the flames reflected in Lucy’s deep brown eyes.

Lucy continued, “I had a brother. A twin, actually. His name was Erebus.” She smiled to herself. “The name’s kind of out-there, I know. But our mom was a Classics professor. She was really into the Greeks or something. I never got to meet her, but my dad’s told me all about her. He says when my brother and I were born, the only way to tell us apart was our hair. His was really dark and mine was, well, like this” – she gestured to her strawberry-blonde curls – “and my mom knew just what to call us. Erebus and Lucia, darkness and light. Twins, poetic duality, yada yada yada.”

“Wow, you sure she wasn’t secretly a Firefly?” Ellie joked. “They really took that whole ‘ When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light’ thing and ran with it.”

Lucy made an exaggerated time-out motion and said facetiously, “Woah, woah, woah. I cannot believe you just talked about my dead mother like that.” Ellie laughed, glad to have broken the ice between them. It was hard enough leaving Jackson, the least she could do was try to make a friend. She found herself feeling immensely grateful that someone her own age had come looking for her.

“And anyway,” Lucy said as she poked Ellie’s shoulder. “It’s not just me. Your mom must have been a Firefly too.” Ellie’s confusion must have shown on her face, because Lucy quickly explained, “Y’know… Ellie, Elizabeth, Liz. They all come from lux , which is light in Latin.” Lucy nudged Ellie’s shoulder with her own to emphasize the point. “That means you’re part of the light too, Ellie.”

Lucy yawned deeply and stood up. “Alright, enough history for now. All this sitting has me exhausted. There are extra blankets, so just let me know if you get cold again.” She gave Ellie a warm smile and turned to walk back to her own spot. Before leaving, though, she turned back and said, “I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but we’re really glad you’re here.”

Ellie smiled back as she watched the other girl turn away. She tucked herself into her own sleeping bag and propped up her backpack as a makeshift pillow. She considered what Lucy had said about their names. Despite the unpleasant taste the Firefly motto left in her mouth, she still liked the possibility of helping make the world a little brighter. And out of anyone she had ever met, she felt like Dr. Reynolds’ team had the best chance at doing just that.

We’re really glad you’re here. As Ellie drifted off to sleep, she decided, definitively, that she was glad to be there, too.

#lazarus is risen // ellie williams #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #the last of us

[abiik]

wait fuck i knew this was gonna happen

#h talks. #oc Thoughts radiating at a max #like rn it's just little character quirks which. ew disgusting. dont fucking talk to me. dont make me love him even more #i dont mind falling more in love w li okay #but bowen? bo? him? bastard? that BITCH? no thank u #not that i love him or anything AHA! ridiculushshshshhs #anyway thinking PARTICULARLY about how when he's not wearing brand stuff or for a shoot. when he's just doin his own thing #he wears like. the baggiest fucking shirts and/or the baggiest pants AND STILL manages to look as long as he IS #like he's only six foot two. three or whatever and i think in america seeing someone like that walking around is kind of #less common than seeing someone like that walking around in his country of origin #but like his designer baggy clothes STILL make him look all lean and long and tall somehow and it's I HATE IT im gonna kick him #IM GONNA KICK HIM FOR INVADING MY BRAIN!!!! #i also think he has a v pretty neck how im imagining him and i 🤢🤢 #me 🤝 li just 🤢🤢🤢 #she and i hiding behind our masks not looking 👀👀 #bowen complains about his hair often too. he be like: no no u cant view it from this angle it looks awful it's too flat #and li is like ?? idk what ur talking about it looks fine #and then after sending a hundred selfies to his hairstylist he's like shoving the text in li's face like SEE SEE MY HAIRSTYLIST AGREED W ME #THEY THINK IT'S TOO FLAT TOO I HAVE TO REDO IT #and li is like u are the most annoying human being i've ever met. just shut up. here is my blow dryer. and some hair stuff. go fuckin wild #bowen: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 for me?????? #li: burn it all when ur done. #HEKCJELXJKEDLEIDKEIDKEIDLEIDLIEKDKECIEKKDODJD #OR HE WEARS LIKE REALLY STRAIGHT PANTS THAT MAKE HIS LEGS LOOK REALLY LONG AND IT'S LIKE <.< WHO GAVE U THE R I G H T

[vivelareine]

Hi! I was hoping you could answer something for me because I'm debating about it somewhere. Did Marie Antoinette pretend to be a peasant/farmer at the hameau at the Petit Trianon?

She didn't. There is no evidence that Marie Antoinette ever pretended to be a farmer, milkmaid/dairymaid, shepherdess, peasant, and so on at the hameau de la reine.

The idea that she and her entourage were playing "village" can be traced to the non-contemporary names given to the buildings during the First Empire period. These building names (vicar's house, etc) gave the false impression that they were pretend "houses" used to simulate a fake village. Whereas in reality, the buildings all had specific purposes, whether they were recreational buildings intended for the elite people or practical buildings intended for the workers.

Like other historical myths, it gets repeated enough times and suddenly it's "true," showing up in books as fact without vetting, being depicted in film (La Revolution Francaise where she milks cows, etc).

But when you go back to the sources, there's no evidence for it. Only evidence that she treated the hameau de la reine like any elite woman would have treated a country estate: she was the mistress who hired employees to do the labor, and "managed it" like an elite woman would manage a country house, and enjoyed its recreations. Approving livestock orders that the head farmer requested, asking for reports on the status of crops, etc. Hosting dinners there, taking walks, tasting the dairy products made in her name, etc.

Another common myth is that she was milking perfumed cows, petting beribboned sheep, etc. Again, all false. I also sometimes see people deride the fact that she asked for a goat that had a good temper, which such an odd thing to pick on. The head farmer complained about the original goat because the original goat was an asshole (not his contemporary words, of course) so wanted to make sure the next goat wasn't Black Philip incarnate.

IMO, the hameau is novel in a different sense; because Marie Antoinette chose to include both practical and recreational buildings integrated into the same space, she created a unique type of estate which didn't hide away the practical labor used to create elite recreation; unlike similar "hameau" estates, which relied on practical production in other spaces (either out of necessity due to lack of space/ability, or specifically done in order to remove the visual of the labor) the hameau de la reine did not shy away from the practical aspect.

With this in mind, though, the hameau in general has taken on an additional mythical quality thanks largely to the aesthetics of the Sofia Coppola film, which depicts Marie Antoinette and her entourage laying in the grass, petting sheep, skipping around, digging in the dirt for strawberries, etc. It's important to remember that these are modern interpretations of how the estate was enjoyed, and not necessarily based in reality. But it has definitely made an impression on pop culture--see how the Secret Versailles of Marie Antoinette docudrama portrayed the Petit Trianon as a whole as if it came out of the Coppola film.

Back to the hameau as a fake village/fake farm, Marie Antoinette pretending to be a peasant in a blissful surrounding myth: It's a myth which developed in the 1800s, after her death, around the same time that "Let them eat cake" began to stick to Marie Antoinette. Rhe contemporary criticism of the hameau was about its secrecy and privacy, about the supposed sexual and then political dealings going on there, about its expense.

Which was, of course, extraordinary compared to any amount of income the average person would make in their lifetime, though it wasn't statistically notable when it came to French finances--and as I've pointed out before, other royals spent far more but received none of the vehement criticism and dangerous dehumanization for it. Mesdames chateau & hameau at Bellevue cost 96% more than Marie Antoinette’s Petit Trianon chateau & hameau de la reine, and they were not dehumanized and degraded like MA for it, by contemporaries or later historians/writers. One of Mesdames even wrote a letter romanticizing the sounds of the servants at their hameau, and no one’s ever really made a big deal of it.

Both myths (fake village, pretend villager) served in the 19th century to develop the concept of Marie Antoinette as someone who thought that the peasants had a pretty sanitized lifestyle., either out of naivety or maliciousness.

While the real Marie Antoinette certainly couldn't empathize with what it was like to be poor, she expressed sympathy throughout her life and had a surprisingly astute understanding of the impact of a lack of bread (see the letter written they day after the October 1793 march on Versailles) on people's behavior and actions. She didn't think that their lives were represented by the hameau de la reine.

The hameau de la reine was a romanticized notion of a secluded countryside elite estate combined with a mixture of whimsical fantasy, the faux cracks & weathering designed to make it appear when you approached as if it was a mysterious place that had always been there.

Marie Antoinette did not imagine she was a peasant or that this was peasant life, nor was this an attempt to create a sanitized version of peasant life sans poverty and real peasants. I think people often confuse the notion of Marie Antoinette wanting a "simpler" life with Marie Antoinette trying to pretend she wasn't a queen; this was not the case. She never forgot she was an elite woman; she simply wanted to enjoy the type of less-rigid elite life that wasn't uncommon in other European royals, but which was considered unusual and in Marie Antoinette's case, unforgivable for a queen of France.

Some further reading:

Pierre de Nolhac, The Trianon of Marie Antoinette (1925)

Meredith Martin, Dairy Queens: The Politics of Pastoral Architecture from Catherine de' Medici to Marie-Antoinette (2011)

Simone Bertière, The Indomitable Marie-Antoinette (2014)

And to recommend something I wrote, Let's Visit! The Laiterie de Préparation at the Hameau de La Reine, I talk a bit about the practical/working dairy and my thoughts on the novel integration of the working dairy into the hameau as a whole.

#marie antoinette #french history #petit trianon #versailles #history #18th century

[mydogisveryadorbs]

bad day | jj maybank x reader

summary: jj has a bad day and he just wants to be with you

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of abuse, sad jj, fluffy ending (ofc)

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

3.5k+ words

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To the outside world, JJ Maybank has a perfect life. He has the best group of friends, he parties all the time, he has all the freedom in the world, and most importantly, he has you.

To the outside world, it is practically impossible for JJ Maybank to have a bad day. How can you have a bad day when you have a perfect life?

The only person in the world that knew that bad days are actually a common occurrence in JJ’s life, was you.

When the two of you had first started dating over a year ago, you too had believed that JJ’s life was perfect. His outgoing personality and carefree nature were what initially attracted him to you and he fought hard to maintain that persona. It wasn't until three months into your relationship that you realized that the blonde boy had it so much harder than you could've possibly imagined.

Truth be told, JJ didn't open up to you on purpose. In fact, if he had it his way, you would have never had to see him break down the way that he did.

You didn't know what to do when you first found your boyfriend laying on the bathroom floor in the Chateau, body shaking with sobs. At first, you thought he had been in another rough quarrel with Rafe and his friends. But when he looked up at you, tear stains on his cheeks and the saddest eyes you had ever seen, you knew this wasn't just some run-in with a couple of kooks.

It didn't take long for you to get over your original state of shock and comfort the boy. Your younger sister had bad anxiety and experienced panic attacks often, and still, you found yourself on the less prepared side when it came to soothing the blonde you adored so much. It was hard for you to understand that the tough, wild, teenager that you had fallen in love with was simply a cover for the fragile boy inside.

You can still vividly remember sitting on the bathroom floor for hours with JJ. Despite your unfamiliarity with your boyfriend’s suffering, there was not one second that you had even remotely questioned your love for him. If anything, seeing him in such a vulnerable state made your appreciation for him grow.

JJ himself, on the other hand, did not know how to accept the comfort you had given him. He was so used to being alone every time he was feeling down. So used to hiding all of his emotions from the people around him. 

The two of you went through many difficult nights of him pushing you away and trying to block you out. But just as fast as he was building up his wall, you were tearing it down.

JJ doesn't know the exact moment when he allowed himself to succumb to your solace. Still to this day, it's hard for him to believe that someone as beautiful and compassionate as you can possibly love someone like him.

The more he let you in, the harder it was to be without you and now, whenever he had a run-in with his father or was unsure of himself, his first impulse was to call you.

You never hesitated to comfort the boy, knowing that he would do the same for you. And as much as you tried to stay strong for JJ, sometimes everything got to be a little bit too much. 

JJ will never forget the day you were holding him after a fight with his father and you couldn't hold it in anymore. You let out heart-wrenching sobs into his hair. The sound alone brought tears to his own eyes and the two of you held each other all night, whispering sweet nothing to one another.

JJ is having a bad day.

He should have known when he woke up this morning and you weren't in his arms. He glanced over, immediately recognizing your small handwriting on a blue sticky note which was stuck to your pillow. The note explained that your parents had asked you to come home, but that you would come back to the chateau to be with him that night.

have a great day and don't miss me too much lovie!

His heart fluttered at your sweet words. How did he get so god damn lucky? Popping open his phone case, JJ folds your note and sticks it inside, just in case he needs to read it again later.

Despite the loving feeling he got in his chest while reading your note, his day quickly went downhill.

When JJ opened the cabinets above the sink to make himself a bowl of cereal, they were empty. He brushed it off and went to work with an empty stomach.

At the hotel, a group of kids bumped into him while he was clearing a table and he dropped a wine glass on the floor, shattering it. His boss chewed him out for 30 minutes before putting him on dish duty for the rest of his shift.

After work, JJ went to the local market and used his tip money from the day to buy a sandwich and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers for you. He knew you would make a big fuss about him spending his money on you, but he loved to see the cute look of surprise on your face whenever he got you something like this. It made whatever he had gotten for you worth every penny.

On his way back to the Chateau, JJ was stopped by none other than Rafe, Topper, and Kelse on their bikes. He tried his best to ignore them, knowing that you hated when he got into fights, but as soon as Rafe mentioned a snide comment about your ass, JJ immediately threw the first punch. He didn't realize until after the fact that one of them had stomped on the flowers he bought for you.

As much as he hated it, the blonde boy knew he needed to go home to get a fresh pair of clothes. He could always ask you to get a pair from the drawer of his clothes you had in your room, but that would require telling you what had happened and he didn't want to be a bother while you were with your family.

He knew he was screwed when he arrived at his “house” and saw his father's truck parked in the dirt outside. JJ hoped that he would be able to slip by without being noticed, but his horrible luck from the day continued.

His father was in the stage of his drinking where he was drunk enough to be angry with his son, but not drunk enough for JJ to outrun him.

JJ’s cheek throbbed on his walk back to the Chateau and he was sure that he was sporting a fresh black eye. His ribs were sore as hell and the only thing that kept him moving was the thought of seeing you.

When he arrived at John B’s house he instantly took note of your missing car. He prayed that you had simply walked and that he would see you laying on the couch when he entered.

There was someone sitting on the couch, but it was not the person JJ was looking for.

“Dude,” John B said when he noticed JJ’s figure standing in the doorway. “What happened to your face?”

“Where's (Y/N),” the blonde asked, ignoring John’s question.

“She called and said she wasn't sure if she would make it,” Kie said, drawing JJ’s attention to where she was standing. “Her friend Carlee’s boyfriend cheated on her, so she went to comfort her. She said she tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail,” the curly-haired girl explained.

Glancing down at his phone, JJ noticed it was dead. His shoulders slumped. All he wanted was to see his girl after a shit day, was that too much to ask? He knew first hand your dedication to your loved ones, and he knew it wasn't fair of him to want all of your comfort and love for himself, but he couldn't help it.

You were too nice, he decided. But that's why he loved you so much, wasn't it?

“So what happened to your face,” John B asked again, taking a sip of his beer.

JJ glowered at his best friend. “What do you care,” he snapped. He knew he shouldn't take his frustrations out on John B, but you were his coping method and he didn't know what to do without that.

John B raised his hands in defense, standing up to grab another beer. “Jeez, dude,” he said, “Just asking.”

“Well maybe you should mind your own goddamn business,” JJ yelled.

The brunette boy halted his actions and turned to face JJ. “What the fuck, man?” he asked, voice rising. “You really want to do this.”

“Yeah, I do.” He definitely didn't. “You know,” JJ snapped, “Maybe if you spent time with your actual friends instead of your fucking kook girlfriend, you would know what was going on in my life.”

John B scoffed “That's rich coming from the guy who spends every waking moment trying to impress a girl who's way out of his league,” he yells.

JJ knows he's right. You were too good for him. But you chose him anyway. Why?

“Fuck you,” JJ sneers, shoving past his best friend and walking out the back doors. He needed space.

You were getting ready to leave your friend's house when Kiara called you. 

Carlee was a sweet girl, and her douche of a boyfriend definitely didn't deserve her so you told her exactly that. But this wasn't the first time something like that had happened between them and based on previous occurrences, you figured Carlee would go a week before she decided to get back together with him.

It was times like these where you really thanked your lucky stars that you had found a boy like JJ. The two of you had your moments like any healthy couple, but you knew in your heart that he would never do anything to purposely hurt you.

You smiled when you saw Kie’s contact. “Hey girl,” you answer in a country accent, giggling at the end.

“(Y/N),” she said and your smile dropped, immediately understanding that there was something wrong. “You need to come to the Chateau right now.”

Your feet skid to a stop and you feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. “What happened? Is JJ okay?” you ask her in a rushed tone.

Kie’s voice is shaky when she speaks. “He came over today with a black eye and a bruised cheek and when John B asked about it JJ kind of freaked out,” she explains. “They are screaming at each other right now. (Y/N), you gotta come quick,” you could hear yelling in the background.

“I'm on my way,” you assure her, hanging up. You run to your car, heart twisting in worry. It wasn't like your boyfriend to act like this so you knew something had to have happened.

You drove to the Chateau faster than you ever have before, getting there in under five minutes. The second your car pulled up to the house. You were flying out of your car and running inside the screen door.

“He's outback,” John B says upon seeing you enter.

Your eyes snap to him and they soften at the sight of his distraught face. “You alright, JB?” you ask.

He nods slowly. “I've never seen him like that, (Y/N),” John B tells you, his voice laced with worry. “You gotta help him.”

You nod your head, walking outside to find your boyfriend. You don't have to go far, spotting his hunched over the figure on the porch steps.

Slowly, you make your way towards the boy, and despite the fact that it's the middle of summer he is shivering violently.

You place a hand on his shoulder and he immediately flinches away from your touch. Your heart breaks at his reaction. “JJ, love, it's me,” you tell him softly, crouching down next to his body.

Hearing your voice, JJ lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are red-rimmed and filled with tears and the skin around the right one is hidden by blue and purple. Your eyes scan his face and you take note of the bruise on his cheekbone and his split lip. Your hands itch to remove his shirt, knowing that there are more hidden underneath.

The sound of JJ’s choked sob brings your eyes instantly back to his. 

“Oh, J,” you say sorrowfully, opening your arms for him. “C’mere.”

The blonde boy instantly falls into your embrace and you cradle his body tightly. He sobs into your shoulder and you feel a wet patch grow in your shirt. “I needed you, I need you,” he cries into your shoulder.

Softly shushing him, you run your fingers through his hair. “I'm here, J, I'm here,” you tell him, your heart aching for the boy in your arms. You don't know exactly how long you sit there, his hands clutching the back of your shirt tightly.

Slowly, his sobs die down before he is only sniffling every few seconds.

You pull back slightly, tenderly cupping his face in your hands. “Can we go inside?” you ask, gently brushing back the blonde curl that had fallen over his forehead.

JJ nods slightly and you stand up on the porch, helping him do the same. You bite your lip when you notice his subtle limp on the way inside. You notice how quiet the Chateau is and silently thank John B and Kiara for giving JJ the space he needs.

 Leading him into the bathroom, you help JJ sit on the counter and you quickly grab the first aid kit from the cabinet below the sink.

Opening it, you grab a cotton swab and an alcohol wipe to clean his lip and cheek, wordlessly realizing how many times you've had to do this.

“Why are you here,” the blonde boy asks abruptly. If you weren't paying attention you would have missed his small voice.

“What'd you mean, J?” you ask, continuing your work.

JJ sighs. “Why are you here?” he asks again, slightly louder, but still quieter than you are used too.

“Well, I was leaving Carlee’s house and Kie called me and told me that you-” JJ cuts you off, pulling away from your grasp slightly.

“No, (Y/N),” his tone is harsh but you can hear the brokenness laced behind it. “Why are you here? With me instead of with your friends? Or better yet another guy that can buy you nice things and doesn't have emotional trauma? A guy who's not broken?” he says the word with such hatred that it shakes you to your core.

“JJ,” you gasp, hurt flashing across your features. How could he think that? JJ instantly wants to take it back, but he wants even more to know your answer. “You are not broken, you hear me?” you say, honesty clear in your voice. “Your flaws are what make you, you. I don't need fancy gifts or expensive jewelry to make me love you! I love every single thing about you, JJ Maybank. From your head to your toes. I love you just the way that you are and there is nothing you can do to take that away from me. Ever.” Your voice is strong and serious. You leave no room for argument as you continue to patch up his face.

JJ doesn't speak again letting the words sink in, scared that he will break down for the second time that night. His eyes fall to the floor and he lets you tend to his cuts.

When you are satisfied with your work on his face, you tap the boy's arm lightly and his eyes snap to yours. “Lift your shirt so I can see,” you ask him, not making eye contact. When he doesn't move, your eyes lock with his. “Please, J,” you beg, in a quiet voice, “I need to see.”

The blonde knows he will never be able to say no to you, especially when you ask him that way, so he gingerly lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and wincing when he moves the wrong way.

JJ expects you to pity him. To tell him you're sorry the way everyone does. But you simply stare at his injuries, eyes welling with tears. And this, JJ decides, makes him feel infinitely worse.

Your hand reaches out to trace the large, purple-black bruises. JJ shivers at the touch of your soft hands on his skin.

He grabs your hand suddenly, pulling it up to his lips. “I'm sorry,” he says, voice cracking. “I'm sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, using the hand not in JJ’s to run through his hair. “None of that, okay? I'm here because I want to be. And I will always be. No matter how many times you try to push me away.”

You feel hot tears on your hand and you quickly slide between his legs, pulling him back into your chest, careful of the bruises on his ribs.

“I love you,” JJ cries into the crook of your neck. “I love you more than anything else in this fucked up world.”

“Shh,” you say softly. “I know, lovie, I know. I love you too. Endlessly.”

JJ pulls back at your words, just enough so that he can look into your eyes.

You used to think your favorite color was purple. When you were ten you painted your entire room purple and even bought purple bedding. But the moment you looked into JJ’s cerulean eyes, it instantly became your new favorite color.

JJ looks from your eyes to your lips before leaning forward to kiss you.

The kiss was soft and passionate explaining every emotion the two of you were feeling. No matter how many times the two of you kissed, your heart raced like it was the very first time. 

Pulling away for air, JJ rests his forehead on yours. 

“What happened today, J?” you ask in a quiet voice. 

JJ bites his lip, leaning back slightly. His first instinct is to tell you that nothing happened and that he's okay, but JJ knows you wouldn't believe him for a second. So he recalls his day, telling you every detail. Just knowing that you know, makes JJ’s heart feel a little less heavy. “A-and I bought you these flowers from the florist on main, y-y'know the ones you love, and I couldn't even bring them to you,” he says sadly.

You caress his cheek. “Love, I don't care about the flowers, all that matters is that you're okay,” you assure him, honesty evident in his voice. “And as for your father, you are staying here or at my house from now on and the next time I see that son of a bi-”

JJ cuts you off, grabbing your hands. The last thing he ever wants is his father hurting you. “(Y/N), no,” he says, the vulnerability in his voice evident. “You need to promise me that you won't confront him. I don't want you getting hurt.”

You sigh, knowing how important this is to the blonde boy. “Only if you promise not to go back there unless I'm with you,” you compromise with him.

He nods, kissing your forehead gently. “Can we please go to bed,” JJ asks and you can hear the sleepiness in his voice. Nodding, you help JJ off the counter and the two of you walk to the spare room in the chateau. The two of you climb into the bed. You are still in your clothes from the day, but that is the last thing on your mind.

JJ moves his arms to wrap around your middle but you gently push his shoulder back. “Turn around, J,” you tell him quietly. You know that JJ secretly loves to be the little spoon and you secretly love to be the big spoon. He would never openly ask you to spoon him, but you can read his body language like a book.

He rolls to his other side and you wrap an arm around his bare middle, careful not to hit any of his bruises. You nuzzle your nose into the back of his tanned shoulder, breathing in his scent deeply.

“I love you (Y/N)” your boyfriend whispers, his hand reaching to hold your hand that is tracing his chest. “Thank you for being here.”

You press a soft kiss to his shoulder blade. “Always, JJ,” you tell him earnestly. “I love you more than anything.”

The blonde boy falls asleep in your embrace, feeling truly safe for the first time that day.

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

masterlist :)

#jj fic #jj angst #jj x oc #jj x reader #jj fluff #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #Outer Banks #john b routledge #jj outer banks #outer banks fic #angst #sarah cameron #rafe fic #rafe cameron #kiara carrera #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader

[junicai]

Relationship with Stray Kids

➣ CHAN ☾ dachan

daeun is chan’s baby and the fact that she’s only two years younger than him changes nothing 

really really dependent on his approval. especially on mixing during the first few songs for skz 

skz has a completely different sound to what daeun was used to, and changing her production style to mirror that was a challenge

there are a lot of clips in the first few episodes of the survival show of daeun sidling up to chan with a notebook in her hand

and them sitting beside each other on the sofa while they worked

you can find dozens of ‘Bang Chan doing the Proud Dad smile because Daeun existed’ videos on youtube

its a very common occurrence 

hence why daeun hates hates hates being told off by him 

its never anything serious 

but she always feels so guilty afterwards, and then she’ll cry and then chan feels guilty

and it’s a whole guilt-fest 

so daeun usually tries to avoid having to be told off

now that doesn’t stop her from telling him off

can and will drag him out by the ear if he stays in his studio for too long

that’s a lie

she’ll just stand in the doorway and pout until he saves his work down and leaves 

works every time

sorry but this man loves to pick her up? 

its a problem 

girl isn’t even hurt or tired just piggybacks 

always 

he said he likes to carry her because he knows that she dances in heels for so long so her feet must hurt more than theirs does

YEAH-

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

chan walks at the end of the group, we all know this. but the one time he wasn’t, was when daeun was the second last getting out of the van, and had to dip back in to snag the bag she had left behind. already three strides into the building, 

chan - upon realizing that he had seven heads in  front of him, and not eight - spun around in a circle, eyes wide and shoulders pushed back as he tried to peer over the crowds. when he spotted daeun, he took her bag from her hand, snagging her hand in his other one, and refused to let go of her until they made it safely into the venue.  

➣ MINHO ☾ mieun

actually attached at the hip?

genuinely

like, no one was going to peg the very intimidating and sullen looking-fellow with the bubbly bitch with pink in her hair and yet: 

✨besties✨ 

it’s comical 

minho’s dry humor perfectly balances with daeun’s unique blend of absolute buffoonery

 they have a lil tradition before they go onstage of exchanging bracelets

yes, they have matching bracelets

it was minho’s idea and yes, stays freaked out

it’s like a little, ‘see you on the other side’ thing

because lord knows daeun spent hours upon hours running herself ragged in practices until all hours of the night 

and minho Wasn’t Having It

so the bracelets are a little. U Got This. from him

really doesn’t like it when she cries 

to the point where he’ll do absolutely anything to get her to stop crying

it was then, that daeun discovered that minho gives god tier hugs 

God. Tier. 

minho and daeun cuddling when they’re drunk? more likely than you’d think 

they’re hilarious together, and probably one of stays most preferred ships with daeun and any of the boys 

the twt threadfics here are Legendary

the most popular one is a coffee shop au - where daeun is a struggling literature grad, and minho is a long-suffering night shift worker

absolutely does not tolerate any kind of hate towards daeun - verbal or otherwise. he blew a fuse the first time she trended for sexy pictures someone had taken of her at a fansign 

daeun had to tell him it was fine twelve times before he calmed down

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

daeun pulled down her skirt again for the nth time, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. she had her ankles tucked behind the leg of the chair and her hands folded over her lap to try and prevent anyone getting a glimpse up further into her skirt than was strictly necessary, but was - ultimately - doing a poor job of protecting her modesty. 

leaning over, minho took a glance at daeun shifting uncomfortably in her seat again, and shucked off his jacket - leaving him in a thin t-shirt in the cold breeze. before daeun could protest, he had laid the jacket over her legs, tucking it in and then sliding his hand in between hers and holding it tightly over his own lap. 

➣ CHANGBIN ☾ dabin

same age siblings !

both being in the ‘99 line, and with daeun originally training to be a main rapper than a vocalist

they were pretty comfortable around each other having spent so long training in each other’s presence

in fact

they even performed a duet together for one of the monthly evaluations

that was when they really became friends so to speak 

daeun fell asleep during one of their rehearsals on the floor of the studio

and changbin couldn’t just, leave her

so he ended up staying with her the whole night

was she embarrassed in the morning? yeah. and then changbin told her off for not prioritizing sleep more, and then she was more embarrassed.

now in the group, their dynamic settled into something extremely comfortable

when daeun was first introduced to the boys as a team, changbin was the only one she was completely comfortable rooming with 

his studio? nah, their studio 

did daeun sit in on a lot of the 3RACHA work prior to debut? yes, solely because she wanted the experience, and changbin said she could stay

it is actually his studio, but there’s a small collection (read: four) of soft pillows in the corner of the room for daeun to sit on as they work

according to her, she works better on the floor

changbin can’t find it in him to refute the argument, so he always ends up down there with her, with sheets sprawled over the carpet

when he started working out, he started taking daeun to the gym

swole buddies 

except daeun wasn’t allowed to build muscle and just had to run on the treadmill the whole time and changbin wasn’t made about that. he wasn’t.

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

changbin and daeun being the mafia when playing with skz and neither of them being able to look at each other without laughing. every time they’d make eye contact, daeun’s lips would twitch up, and changbin would have to turn away to cough into his arm lest he give himself away. 

ultimately, they lost - much to the chagrin of the pair, who wailed at their loss and proceeded to drink their sorrows away with the coca cola that they were sponsored for. 

product placement at it’s finest, even if it was a metaphor for alcoholism. 

➣ HYUNJIN ☾ dajin

lil beans

babies

awh

not at the start but now, yes.

he was wary around her, at first because hyunjin knows he’s attractive and the Last Thing He Wants is a groupmate that has a crush on him

so he was a bit, cold and aloof with daeun at the beginning of the survival show

he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression !

but then 

then 

daeun apologized to him in her video message after her elimination for ‘upsetting him, and making him feel like he couldn’t be comfortable around her’ and dear god

hyunjin’s heart = broken. destroyed. shattered into pieces. 

he still feels Very Guilty about this sometimes because he knows that his attitude towards her played a huge part in her feeling alienated and not like she belonged in the group

daeun tells him it doesn’t bother her but he knows

they talked through it though

good communication besties 

A+

he doesn’t call her noona though

he did, once upon a time, but then daeun felt weird because realistically, there’s only four months between them and that’s not enough to make her any more of a noona to him than he is a hyung to jisung and felix? 

they have a little rountine now, when either of them are upset

they pack up all the emotions for a little bit

into a little box

get out a laptop (doesn’t matter whos)

and just cuddle, with some blankets, and a terrible show or movie that they’re not really watching until the person is ok to talk 

arguably the most healthy friendship you will ever find

therapists around the country are giving standing ovations 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

felix padded into hyunjin’s room to shake the boy awake, before catching sight of an already-awake daeun wrapped in his arms.

“noona?”

“help-” she gasped out, patting frantically at hyunjin’s arm that was firmly wrapped around her middle. “he won’t let go. it’s been an hour.” 

felix bit his lip, trying to stifle the laugh that was threatening to burst out. “i don’t know, you look pretty comfortable.” he began backing out the door.

“felix. lee felix. lee felix you come back here!” the harsh whisper-shouts echoed down the hallway after the giggling boy. 

➣ JISUNG ☾ jidae

partners in crime

probably have committed some crime together at some point but there’s no proof so chan can’t yell at them for it

they met when daeun first sat in on the 3RACHA meetings 

did someone say: soulmates 

changbin is convinced that the angel choir played when they first locked eyes

like this

jisung kicked the angel off of daeun’s shoulder and now it’s just him and the devil racking up reverse-brownie points in daeun’s conscience 

he’s been a wonderful influence, truly

to be fair though, daeun did attempt to convince him to stop eating ramen every day (to a varying degree of success)

to no degree of success actually. she just takes him out of the dorm to eat it now, but chan doesn’t need to know that bit

daeun? did you mean: jisung’s pillow?

anywhere, any place - he just flops down onto her

many head pats

they are both givers and receivers 

no words spoken only HEAD PATS 

the comfort is exchanged through osmosis

jisung is wholeheartedly against her ever getting a boyfriend 

Absolutely Not. she is theirs, and he will glare at anyone else who dares to Look At Her

nap buddies 

they get a combined total of negative six hours of sleep per week so they always end up napping together 

it’s very cute

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

less of a ‘moment’ and more of a series of events that STAY found hilarious?

we all know han jisung’s iconic converse. they’re legendary. unofficial skz merch. 

right well, daeun was seen wearing them out and around a few times by fansites, and one of them asked had she bought her own pair after seeing jisung’s at a fansign.

daeun laughed and said no, they were almost the same size in shoe so she just borrowed his. 

daeun stole jisung’s shoes. 

➣ FELIX ☾ daelix

stop they love each other so much 

felix said once in a vlive that he finds daeun really comforting to be around because she’s so calm 

‘calm’ 

he had a lot of anxiety about debuting because of what jyp said to him upon his elimination *angry noises*

so daeun tried her best to alleviate as much of his worries as possible

even if that meant sacrificing her own sleep to sit with him in the kitchen and talk things out

sorry i’d like to revisit the point that They Love Each Other Very Much 

felix says that he was worried about leaving his sisters behind, so having another noona was really comforting to him 

daeun absolutely has an australian accent when she speaks english now and it is completely felix’s fault 

he’d actively correct her pronunciation to make her sound more australian because he thinks the accent is so cute on her  

aggressively cute together 

you will get a toothache if you watch them for too long 

someone stop them they’re so adorable 

he likes to give out random compliments to see how red he can make her face go before she whacks him to get him to stop 

the results conclude: a pretty nice cherry-cheeked colour

felix really lives up to his koala nickname when he’s around daeun

will latch on and will not let go until he has to 

you thought chan loved felix? now see: chan watching daeun and felix 

pain

its so painful he just smiles like everything is right with the world and it IS because felix and daeun are there and aaaaaAAAA-

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

a sad moment, but one that features in every compilation of daelix’s interactions anyway. when daeun’s name was called for her elimination, she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and schooling her face into something impassive. the boys were all staring at her with devastated looks on their faces, but nothing was matching the look that felix was giving her from his position right by her side. 

he choked out her name, stumbling forwards into her arms as she caught him and wrapped him in a hug. felix apologized profusely for being the one in need of comfort, while daeun just ran a hand over his hair and told him it was alright, she was alright. 

➣ SEUNGMIN ☾ daseung

protector of daeun’s sanity

she has One (1) well behaved dongsaeng and its kim seungmin

it’s not that he’s less likely to act out than the others, really. it’s that he’s the least likely to die while doing it, so that = most well behaved, in daeun’s books 

daeun likes to squish his cheeks

no reason

other than, soft cheeks go squish and seungmin lets her so why would she forsake this golden opportunity

now if he wants to sit on the couch beside her he has to resign himself to cheek-smooshing 

also cheek kisses, rarely. usually when daeun’s intoxicated.

the boys had figured that both of their personalities together would just merge and create an even more chill environment

calm²

but NO

pemdas

it cancelled out

they’re not Chaotic but they’re certainly not Calm 

it’s a unique vibe that can only be described by this -> link

sorry

scholars but minus the education 

profound visionaries but they’re blind, type beat 

have the combined brainpower of the librarian gary from that one spongebob episode but they choose not to utilize it for the memes 

in all seriousness though, they’re very comfortable around each other 

seungmin struggled a lot with confidence during their debut months, and daeun was the only person who really knew the full extent of it all 

there was a Hefty Amount of nighttime talks on daeun’s bed under blankets stolen from the living room 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

seungmin can sing, we all know that. but stray kids’ style rarely allows for full ballad songs on an album, so seungmin being given the opportunity to perform ‘Love Poem’ on Kingdom was truly a blessing in disguise. (the disguise being daeun’s re-occuring vocal nodules that left her unable to perform). 

after the performance, seungmin had barely taken a foot off the stage before he was being tackled by a teary-eyed daeun, who immediately buried her face into his shoulder to stop the cameras getting a good look at her crying. 

“n-noona?” 

“you can sing.” 

“yeah?”

“you sing so beautifully, minnie, oh my god.” 

➣ JEONGIN ☾ jeondae

the first thing you have to realize about daeun and jeongin’s relationship is that both of them can be the Biggest Babies in the world 

now with that out of the way

jeongin ADORES daeun 

im sorry did someone say ‘noona who wholeheartedly finds it impossible to say no to him’?

i think they did

he doesn’t take advantage of it, persay

but he Does and Will use it to others detriment - especially during games

“jeongin! you told me you weren’t the mafia! i believed you! this is a betrayal!”

she’s so so smitten with him and everything he does 

it is virtually impossible for her to be mad at him 

he just gets a little scowl and then a soft flick on his ear at the PEAK of scolding 

is the world’s worst enabler for All His Bad Ideas 

often complains that he’s growing up too fast and it isn’t fair that he’s taller than her now 

which he’ll then respond to by resting his elbow on her head and leaning on her, so. it never goes down very well 

daeun checks his micpack for him before every stage

every. stage. 

daeun is the only person who is allowed to coddle him as much as she does 

hyunjin is Bitter and daeun is Smug 

jeongin needs help with schoolwork? daeun would do it for him if she had been any good at school either, but alas 

 FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

chan stepped into the kitchen, camera in hand. 

“what are you doing?” 

daeun and jeongin shove his backpack off the table, the coloured permanent markers rolling off immediately after, two black ones uncapped in their hands. 

“NOTHING” 

chan looked pointedly at them, and then to the backpack that had slid underneath the table. there, written all over the straps and the front pocket were small drawings, ranging from dinosours to the words (written in very terrible handwriting, so he couldn’t be sure which one of them wrote it): “skool suks!”

chan looked over to the pair. they scrambled off the chairs, abandoning the evidence in their break for safety. 

#*daeun.relationships #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #stray kids additional member #stray kids 9th member #female kpop #female!kpop #stray kids female member #stray kids extra member #stray kids additions #kpop additions #kpop #kpop oc #stray kids female addition #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor... - c.1

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

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood

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

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

✎ ✎ ✎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Me?’ I ask in a soft tone.

He nods. ‘You,’ he confirms.

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

Why would he do that?

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

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

He is not beating around the bush.

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

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

I’m so stupid.

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

‘Does anyone have any questions?’

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

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

‘Why?’

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

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

‘Really?’ the guy asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Brown hair, blue eyes,’ a girl says.

He nods. ‘And?’

‘They’re pretty,’ another girl says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh my goodness, I made an excellent point.

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

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

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

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

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

✎ ✎ ✎

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

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

I turn around. ‘Yes?’ I ask.

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

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

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

‘Or just luck,’ I say.

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

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

‘Why can’t you?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

And not here.

✎ ✎ ✎

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

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

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

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

Okay, change kinda annoying to absolutely insufferable.

‘Hm?’

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

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

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

‘You mind leaving me alone?’ I ask.

‘Why is that, sugar boo?’

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

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

Not me.

‘Fitzgerald, are you deaf?’

It’s professor Marshall.

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

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

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

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

‘Thank you, sir,’ I say.

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

Why do I feel so offended? ‘Oh…’

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

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

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

Absolutely fantastic.

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

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

‘I insist.’

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

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

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

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

✎ ✎ ✎

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

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

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

‘What’s your question, miss Townsend?’

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

‘That’s up to you,’ he says.

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

‘Right,’ I mumble.

‘Other questions, miss Townsend?’

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

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

‘In your chair?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Miss Townsend—’

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

‘Penny,’ he says, ‘could’ve known.’

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

Professor Marshall nods. ‘Okay.’

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

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

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

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

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

‘See you next class, Penny.’

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

[benevolentbirdgal]

A “brief” reference guide to modern Jewish denominations / Jewish Writing Advice / Jewish Identity / Jewish Reference Guide [graphic at bottom]

Writing a Jew or Jewish family? Aware that Judaism is not a monolith and want to honor that? Great! Need help with that? 100% cool - I’m here as your friendly (virtual) neighborhood Jewish professional to help. Just want to know more about Jewish denominations in comparison to one another? Also great! Fair warning - this is a long one. At least I included a graphic at the bottom?

Quick notes to acknowledge: As always, this is an American and Americanish perspective (and denominations as discussed here are MOSTLY relevant in the U.S. anyways). Additionally, the modern denominations as we think of them today really sprung from Ashkenazi communities in the 19th and 20th centuries. Most extant U.S. synagogues, day schools, and groups follow Ashkenazi customs and align with a denomination born of Ashkenazi tradition (aligning with the approximately 90% of Jewish-Americans who are Ashkenazi or Ashkenazi plus another community). Sephardi, Mizrachi, and other Jewish communities have their own traditions and jurisprudence. Most organized non-Ashkenazi communities in the U.S. identify as nondenominational but most closely compare in practice to orthodoxy, and many non-Ashkenazi Jews (especially outside of major population centers that may have other specific subgroup’s synagogues) are members of and very involved in Ashkenazi-originating movements, institutions, and synagogues. 

For the purpose’s of today’s discussion, we’ll start in the 19th century, because Karaites vs Pharisees vs Sadducees is a (his)story for another time. This also isn’t a history of how these denominations came to be-with the exception of some ultraorthodox groups, which may have sprung from the shtel a little earlier, all the below movements popped out of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. I’m also going to list approximate percentage of the American Jewish population, and I’m going to (kinda) go in order from most to least strict/traditionally observant. 

Ultraorthodox (aka Haredi): The strictest, more traditional and expansive observance of the Torah, Talmud, and minhagim (customs). About 1% of American Jews are ultraorthodox. Ultraorthodox is not a unified movement. 

1a. Haredi, Satmar, and most other groups generally isolate themselves from the wider Jewish world and secular world.

1b. Chabad is also ultraorthodox, but specially seeks to interact with less observant Jews. I wouldn’t call it proselytizing, because they don’t seek to make gentiles Jewish, but they do try and find less observant Jews and bring them closer to Judaism, also establishes small synagogues around the country and world in isolated place. 

1c. Ultraorthodox are the most visibly Jewish attired group, wearing Kippahs for all men and boys and tichels (headscarves) and/or wigs for married women. Very modest attire for all. In Ashkenazi Ultraorthodox communities, men also tend to only wear black and white, hats in addition to their kippah (for grown and married men), and wearing tzitzit (a garmet with four corners with strings attached worn under a shirt with the threads sticking out). 

1d. Most likely to speak Yiddish or Hebrew as first language.

1e. No gender equality, very strict kosher, and intense community adherence to particular brand of Judaism.

1f. Communities generally led by a Rabbi and a Rebbetzin (Rabbi’s wife) as pair (rabbis are generally expected to be married).

1g. No female Rabbis, same-sex marriage, or intermarriage. Lots of children. Pretty much all boys have Bar Mitzahs, rarely do girls have Bat Mitzvahs. 

1h. Services entirely in Hebrew (except maybe the sermon).

1i. Only count matrilineal Jews and converts-Jewish father and gentile mother doesn’t count for them. 

1j. Very strict observance of prohibitions and commandments pertaining to Shabbat and holidays. 

Modern orthodox: Orthodox, but with some adaptations to modern life. Roughly 9% of American Jews. Also some division within modern orthodoxy (with some congregations being more liberal than others, particularly in regards to women and LGBTQ+ folks), but there are a couple of major organizations that most modox rabbis and congregations affiliate with one another through larger denomination movements (i.e. the Orthodox Union and the Rabbinical Council of America). 

2a. Modern orthodox Jews regularly interact with other Jews who are more liberal. They tend to live in more Jewish communities but no issues with interacting with outside world.

2b. Modest clothing and men wear kippot everywhere (when safe). Married women also usually cover their hair (with wigs or tichels). Men also typically wear tzitzit. 

2b. Gender roles, but progress being made. Handful of female rabbis emerging in 2010s/2020s. Whether women count in a minyan depends on the specific congregation and many modern orthodox shuls will have separate women’s prayer groups. The prevalence of Bat Mitzvahs also varies wildly congregation to congregation.

2c. Like ultraorthodox, communities are typically led by a Rabbi and his wife the Rebbetzin. Some acceptance of homosexual individuals as members of the community, but no same-sex marriage (some alternate ceremonies emerging). Like one out gay male rabbi. No intermarriage.

2d. Very strict adherence to kosher, would likely not eat at someone less kosher’s home.

2e. Usually have on the higher end of a “normal” amount of children. Services entirely in Hebrew (except sermon).

2f. Only count matrilineal Jews and converts-Jewish father and gentile mother doesn’t count for them.

Less traditionally observant than this is often known as “liberal Judaism” - around 90% of American Jews.

2g.  Very strict observance of prohibitions and commandments pertaining to Shabbat and holidays. 

Conservative: Brands itself as middle of the road Jewish movement. about 18% of the American Jewish population. No connection to conservative politics, most Conservative with a C Jews are liberal or moderate politically. Often called “Masorti” outside the U.S and hypothetically a unified movement under several connected organizations (i.e. the Masorti Olami and the Jewish Theological Seminary). 

3a. Gender equality. Female rabbis and LGBTQ rabbis definitely an acceptable thing, but not as common as with Reform or Reconstructionist. 

3b. Formally sanctioned ceremony for same-sex couples to wed under Jewish law since 2012 and affirmation ceremonies since 2006.

3c. Modesty in synagogues but comparable to regular American attire otherwise.

3d. Generally comparable family size to other American families.

3e. Kosher, but not as strict as orthodoxy. Many Conservative Jews have kosher homes but are willing to be more lax when eating out. Synagogues are always kosher.

3f. Services mostly in Hebrew, sermons and some prayers definitely in local language.

3g. Intermarriage is frowned upon, but many otherwise Conservative Jews will be married by a less traditional rabbi or justice of the peace to non-Jewish partners. Although Conservative rabbis do not perform interfaith marriages, many interfaith couples are in Conservative synagogues. In the 90s/2000s it was way less friendly to interfaith couples/families (laughs in having a goyish dad) but that has improved in the past 3-5 years substantially. 

3h. Observance of prohibitions and commandments pertaining to Shabbat and holidays is regulated but less strict than orthodoxy. Varies a bit by community. A good example to illustrate this is getting to synagogue on Shabbat:

By the book (not necessarily reflected by attendees): Orthodoxy says you have to walk there (no driving), Reform says it’s no issue to drive on Shabbat, and Conservative says you can drive but only to get to shul and back. 

3i. As with orthodoxy, only matrilineal Jews count. Most interfaith families with non-Jewish moms (or moms who converted post-birth of the kid), particularly those who want to participate in Conservative communities will convert the child as a baby so they can have a normal Jewish upbringing (beyond an extra blessing/prayer in the Bnai Mitzvah process and social awkwardness that oft accompanies interfaith families in Jewish spaces).

3j. Most dress comparably to others in geographic area (synagogue notwithstanding, see my other post). Men on the higher end of observant might also wear kippahs all the time as well. Outside of explicitly Jewish contexts, similar lifestyles to surrounding populations. Around the same number of children as in gentile families. 

Reform: Not at all traditionally observant. About 35% of American Jews. More or less a cohesive movement linked by organizations (i.e. Women of Reform Judaism and the Union for Reform Judaism).

4a. Reform Judaism is the largest group. It generally views Judaism through the lens of social justice, repairing the world, and cultural heritage as opposed to religious mandate. 

4b. Very big on personal choice in what one observes, I like to call it “choose your own adventure” Judaism. 

4c. Keeping kosher is uncommon. Some shuls aren’t even kosher.

4d. Reform services use the least Hebrew, although this is changing in some places. 

4e. Reform’s standard of Jewishness is 1+ Jewish parent(s) and raised doing Jewish things, regardless of which parent is Jewish. 

4f. Very feminist/egalitarian and welcoming to LGBTQ+ folks. Highest number of not-straight rabbis and female rabbis. 

4g. Intermarriage very common and can be performed by Reform rabbis. 

4h. Reform Judaism was way ahead of the curve in terms of LGBTQ+ rights and religion. The movement has had members advocating for homosexual rights (protection in housing, employment, civil marriage, and other nondiscrimination protections) since 1965 (finally passing formal resolutions in 1977), began proactively including/welcoming out gay rabbis in 1990, created same-gender marriage Jewish ceremonies in 1996/7, and has made resolutions explicitly including bi and trans people as well since 2004 (stuff earlier than that generally specified “gay and lesbian”). An additional resolution was passed in 2015 regarding trans and nonbinary inclusion, alongside guides to help congregations do so. 

4i. See #3j - also applies here. 

Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform, are the biggest and “standard” movements people will most typically list and identify with, most likely to appear in surveys and studies, are older than everything listed below. Modern Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform all started in the 19th century and some Ultraorthodox groups trace back further than that. I’ve outlined some practical differences, but the basic theoretical difference is that Orthodox considers traditional Jewish law (Halacha) binding and you can’t change it, Conservative believes it it’s binding but the community can change it, and Reform believes that it’s nonbinding. 

Some smaller movements: 

Reconstructionist - Newest even remotely well-known and organized movement, founded in the 1920s as an offshoot of the Conservative movement. I would describe it as “build your own adventure but Halacha matters (or at least some of it).” The first thing almost every recon Jew I’ve ever met has told me when describing reconstructionism is that they invented the bat mitzvah in 1922, which basically translates to “tradition matters but also egalitarianism.”

Maybe 2%-5% of American Jews today self-ID as Reconstructionist, but I would argue that a lot of nondenominal practitioners have philosophies fairly aligned with the recon ethos. 

Jewish Renewal: very small and relatively disorganized movement started in the 1960s. Attempts to bring Jewish tradition and modern sensibilities, hippie Jews who care about Halacha. Big on mysticism and music, doing Jewish enthusiastically, and a tendency towards more traditional observance in conjunction with progressive politics. Kind of the laid-back cousin of reconstructionism, although neither sprung from the other. 

(Cultural) Humanistic Judaism: “Non-theistic” Judaism for atheist Jews who still want a connection to their history, culture, and celebrations. 

Nondenominational - Nondenominational and post-denominational Jews are the fast growing group. Variety of liberal/non-traditionally observant beliefs and practices, but most will still contextualize themselves around the denominational scale.

#writeblr #jewish writing advice #jewish writing help #writing jewish characters #writing jewish spaces #jumblr #jewblr #writing advice #ref #reference #jewish ref #jewish reference #jewish denominations #judiasm #another long one still not sorry #info dump

[pocketramblr]

Rainbow glow

aka yall feral followers wanted the angst and i cannot help but to deliver. so in a role reversal, today Kitten wrote you lovely friendship rainbow eyes- and the start of trust with other colors entering green. have something terrible from me in the ‘rainbow eyes are evil death pain’ version of the au

Shouta felt cold. Not an icy frigid- just. Empty. the cold of an unused storage space behind dirty concrete and thin metal. The cold of a grey sky that won’t even give you the relief of rain or snow. The kind of cold when you had nothing in your pantry, when you had to explain that to your child.

A child- God, how was he going to explain this to Eri? To his other students? To All Might, to Midoriya’s mother?

Hizashi shut off the car, but didn’t move to get out yet. He stared ahead, silent. He shouldn’t be silent. He shouldn’t have tears streaked down his face, his eyes bloodshot behind the glasses.

Should, that didn’t matter. Could, would, didn’t matter. Those were excuses. He had to do this.

“Do you think- you want to just, be in the teacher’s commons for a bit?” Hizashi finally asked. “Don’t think there would be anyone else there who’d mind. The kids are taking care of Eri, right?”

The kids- the ones who almost weren’t, anymore. Mirio was going on about a tea party.

“Yeah.” Shouta finally spoke. It sounded wrong. It felt wrong, in his throat.

“Then we can go to the commons, for a bit?”

“No.” Shouta had to commit. He had to do this. It was what was rational. It was what would protect the others. He couldn’t fail more of them. “There’s something I have to do.”

“You can pick up the kids’ work to grade later, Sho.” Hizashi tried. He really wanted him to be there, didn’t he. He didn’t want to be alone.

“I- it’s not that. There’s just one conversation I need to have. Then I’ll meet you in the commons.”

Just one conversation. Like this morning had been ‘just one conversation.’ It was still the first time in maybe years that he’d cried. Maybe he’ll cry again. No, he couldn’t let himself. Not yet. Not until after. There might be a fight, after, there might be nothing. But he had to do it, still.

“Ok.” Hizashi nodded, squeezing his shoulder before he climbed out of the car and shut his door. Shouta took one moment, one deep breath, before getting out himself.

With the long drive to and from Tartarus, plus the meetings inside, his students were long out of class and practice for the day. 

He hoped Midoriya would be alone.

Hope was not on his side. He should have known that, by now. Midoriya was in the middle of the couch, between Todoroki and Tenya. Uraraka was on the floor, leaning against his legs, Asui sitting on her lap as she braided her hair. They were focused on the tv, where Mina, Kaminari, Ojiro, and Tokoyami were fiercely battling it out in some racing game or another, and apparently all the students had picked sides.

Asui noticed him first, and though the amused, watery glow of her eyes flickered, they didn’t dim. He nodded to her.

Her eyes wouldn’t be glowing happily after this.

But they wouldn’t be rainbow, unseeing, at least. He had to focus on that. He had to think rationally. 

His hands were shaking, so he shoved them in his pockets.

“Midoriya.” He called. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

The green e- the green-haired boy jolted, surprised to turn and see him. A nervous smile twisted his lips. “Uh, sure? Is there something wrong?”

All the other students were looking at Shouta now.

Well, he had been the one to miss an entire school day earlier. He hadn’t even missed a class period before that, so he was already going to be drawing attention for that. 

Dimly, he was glad Eri wasn’t here. Glad Shinsou and Aoyama weren’t here. That All Might wasn’t. This was hard enough.

He shook his head and tried to keep his voice normal. “No, nothing wrong. Just need to talk to you alone, if you’ve got a minute.”

“Oh, sure, yeah.” Midoriya began the process of detangling from his friends, grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch and pulling it on as he made his way to the door, looking up at Shouta.

He looked completely guileless. His eyes looked green.

But Kurogiris eyes had looked yellow. Yellow, alone, until they peeled him back and saw the rotting corpse of his friend, of his- Oboro. Glazed, unseeing eyes with the same rainbow light that all nomu had.

With the rainbow light that Midoriya’s got, when he was brainwashed. Shouta hadn’t let himself think about it too much before today, because he just didn’t have information. He just didn’t have reason, when three simple incidents that were completely different, and one late at night with no other evidence.

No, there had been evidence. The ruined room. The strange new technique- new quirk, with a new color.

Shouta had just not wanted to believe it. Had wanted to trust All Might had it handled, like people always trusted in the man.

And now he didn’t need to believe it- he had seen something, seen proof so terrible it would haunt what little sleep he got for the rest of his life, probably.

Shouta nodded at the boy, heading outside.

Whatever he saw from Midoriya today would probably haunt him too. Would he drop limp under questioning, like Kurogiri had? Would he simply be warped away in some shadow or goop? Would he start fighting Shouta, go violent, like other nomu did?

Don’t think about that. Don’t dwell, don’t feel. Don’t lose yourself, because you have to think rationally.

He didn’t speak, for a while, just walking away from the dorm buildings. Where no one could see out a window, if they were looking.

“Aizawa-sensei? What is you wanted to talk about?” Midoriya asked after a while.

Shouta stopped.

“Midoriya, you’re…” A good kid, learning, a hero chickling in the making, already so strong, already- no, stop. It felt like saying a eulogy over a body. Even if that was what this was, for all he still looked alive. Even if that was what this was, Shouta didn’t deserve to say it.

“Yeah?” Midoriya asked. 

Shouta moved, flicking his capture weapon around Midoriya.

The boy yelped, that instinctual squirming away before it stopped a moment later. “Sensei?” He asked again, higher pitched, panicked- scared. “No- you’re not Toga, are you?”

Shouta activated erasure just as his eyes light up green, sparks flying out. “I’m not.” He says. He feels so tired. “It’s me. Midoriya, I need to ask you about your quirk.”

The boy went still again. “My- my quirk?”

“Your quirks.” He corrected himself. “You have more than one. Your eyes glow with so many colors, sometimes. Like only nomus’ do.” Midoriya’s face was pale, and not just for the cold weather. “So I want to know- when did you get these quirks, what other ones do you have, and what did you do to my student?”

Midoriya gaped, a second of silence, two seconds- then he shook his head. “No, no Aizawa-sensei it isn’t like that-”

Shouta tugged him closer, leaned over him. His eyes were stinging so much, and he hadn’t even been erasing for that long.

“It’s not! It’s not, I swear Sensei, it- they were given to me. They were given to me, not stolen. By heroes.”

“Who?”

“I- I can’t tell you, right now, but-”

“The only person who has the ability to give quirks- and take them- is All For One, who’s currently sitting in Tartarus, and that villain who attacked Nabu where your class was- who was never found, dead or alive.”

“No, no it wasn’t them.” Midoriya shook his head even more. “I just- Sensei, there are six and a half billion people on this planet who have quirks, there are others like that and they aren’t all villains!”

Shouta’s mouth felt drier than his eyes, and he snapped. “Midoriya. This isn’t about the insanely rare chance of another person in this country with the same quirk who actually has a hero license and is giving you more quirks for whatever reason they have, it’s about how I had to see a dead UA student today who had been killed and turned into a nomu that looked like a normal person, until they cracked him open and saw his face, his eyes.”

“I- what? What?” Midoriya spluttered, eyes blown wide. “Who?” He glanced, panicked, towards the dorms and school and Shouta could have kicked himself.

He shouldn’t have told him that. He shouldn’t have, rationally, because he didn’t know who was listening in through Midoriya. He didn’t know if they already were aware of what the heroes had found concerning Kurogiri or not. He shouldn’t have, less rationally, because now the kid was freaking out even more.

Midoriya always was more concerned for others’ sakes…

“No one you would have known.” Shouta tried to say it calmly, free hand up peaceably. “He was killed- and captured- a few years ago.”

Fifteen years ago.

This boy would have just been a baby, then.

“And that’s why I need to know the truth about you, and your quirk, Midoriya.” The capture weapon felt so sharp against his fingers in the cold air. The knife on his belt felt so heavy against his back.

The student dips his head.

“It’s called One For All.” he admits, softly. “It was All For One’s brother’s quirk, once. But it wasn’t exactly the same- he could give his quirk, and then that person could give it and their original one to someone else, and then that person could pass all three on, so on and so forth. He could give quirks, but not take them. The person who had it last gave it to me. Th- they were better at hiding it, than i am. I didn’t think the other quirks in it would cause problems, until Black Whip was already out.”

Midoriya hadn’t had a good grasp of his quirk at the start of the year. He’d been registered as quirkless before that. It… could be possible. Shouta hoped it was possible.

Shouta had learned today, again, to not trust hope.

“Who gave it to you?” 

Midoriya shuddered, and Shouta’s heart almost stopped. Don’t drop, don’t drop now-

“All Might.” The boy whispered. “All Might gave it to me.” He looked up, eyes blazing in every sense but literal. “You can’t tell anyone. You can’t tell anyone, please.”

“I won’t.” Shouta says, quicker than he should.

He blinks.

He pulls out his phone, dials a number.

“Who are you calling?” Midoriya’s voice is sharp.

“All Might.” He answers, just as the man himself does.

“Aizawa-kun! Are you back-”

“All Might. Are you in a place I can ask you questions of a sensitive nature?”

“Um. What sort of sensitive do you mean?”

“Pertaining to All For One.”

“Give me one moment.” The hero said, voice now as serious as Shouta’s was. In a few seconds, he spoke again. “I am now. What’s wrong?”

“What does ‘One For All’ mean to you?”

It’s quiet, very quiet, for what feels like a very, very long time. Shouta’s heart thumped. Midoriya looked silently on.

“It’s the name of my quirk. Aizawa, is… young Midoriya all right?”

“So he does have it, now. Your old quirk. And others.” Shouta felt something blooming in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it was, he didn’t have the time or energy to examine it. It wasn’t important, it could wait until later.

“Yes. Is he all right?”

“Yeah.” Shouta let the capture weapon drop, arm still out to steady Midoriya if need be. “We need to talk, later, about this.”

“When?”

“Tomorow.” Shouta said, and then hung up. Tomorrow is a weekend, right? That’s why the kids hadn’t been busy this afternoon. Good. he had new plans for tonight. And tomorrow morning.

He drops his arms, and sighs. Exhaustion, and relief. So much relief. 

“Midoriya…” He started, looking over at him. He couldn’t read the expression on the student’s face. He lifted a hand, slow, then dropped it over Midoriya’s head. 

His hair was thicker than Shinsou’s, but just as soft as Shouta ruffled it. 

He wanted to say something. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to promise everything would be all right.

He couldn’t truthfully do either, and while he normally had no scruples about deciving his pupils… well, Midoriya had just been very, very honest with him.

“Thank you.” He said, instead, because that was true.

“Aizawa-sensei? Are you… crying?”

He was, huh. Shouta wiped his cheeks. “No.”

Midoriya let out a sound that wasn’t really a laugh, but for now, after everything, was close enough. 

“Sensei, I-”

His phone rang- Shouta’s. He dug it out with a sigh. Hizashi.

“One minute.” He said, then answered. “Yeah?”

“Shou, it’s Eri.”

“What’s wrong?” Energy snapped back into him. It hadn’t been a misdirection, right? If All For One and his league knew about his brother quirk, if he was just letting Midoriya unknowingly distract the heroes while-

“She’s not feeling well. Very upset, says her horn is hurting her.” Hizashi says, and he’s not calm- just tired too. A line of fear under that. “It’s sparking a little bit, Shou, though I can’t tell if her eyes are lighting up.”

“Tell her I’ll be right there.” He hung up, slid the phone away. Then he looked to Midoriya. “Eri’s feeling sick, think you could get me to the teachers’ dorm faster?”

Midoriya looked concerned, then relaxed with a nod, a tiny smile.

In a moment, Shouta was moving in the biting wind, the world a blur. He was held in small arms, and when he looked up he saw Midoriya’s face focused ahead.

Sparks over his skin, black whips out to speed him along. His eyes shining both green and maroon. Two colors, which he thought minutes ago meant his doom.

It still could, the rational part of him reminded. He’ll be a target. For All For One, for the villains. For some other heroes, too.

Later. He can worry about that later. Once Eri’s settled.

He’d have time later.

#*posts this and dies* #my writing #eye glow au #glowing eyes au #dadzawa #oh man that got long #im so tired #and im still supposed to be writng completely seperate whumptober story right now ahhhh kjhghjk

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #15

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Richard-sensei’s Cooking Classroom

On a bright morning in Kandy, a provincial town from Sri Lanka, a man was standing still in his kitchen. Leaning against the wall was a Japanese book titled “Breakfast for People Who Live Alone”. There were three items on the menu. Just an omelet with ketchup on top, boiled sausages and fruit salad yogurt.

Regardless, the kitchen where the man was standing was an explosion of colors, as if it were the atelier of some Dadaist painter. Perhaps he was wrong in trying to make an omelet, the blond man thought, tilting his head despondently. Loved by the god of beauty, his blond hair swayed smoothly, and on the wall behind him, the exploded omelet was scattered in all directions, giving off an artistic atmosphere. It was obvious that in order to cook an omelet on a frying pan, it was necessary to shake up said pan, but the specific method of how hard one should shake it had not even once made an appearance in his life, much like fairies and unicorns from fictional stories. As a result of him jerking the pan with moderate adjustment, the omelet had flown off, hitting the wall and dripping down under the influence of gravity.

The beautiful man cast his eyes at the opposite side of the kitchen with a melancholic look as well. His golden eyelashes reflected a rainbow-colored prism and shone like an emerald-green sea under the morning sun. In a corner, where a microwave and water heater sat on top of the kitchen table, something orange had burst all over the place from within the microwave. Just why did food blow up so often, the man wondered, silently ashamed of his ignorance for trying to reduce just two rules of thumb to common sense. When he put three vacuum-packed blood sausages in the microwave and warmed them up, the sausages lost their original shape with a faint explosive sound. Obeying the instructions that said, “Bain-marie or microwave”, the man had chosen the microwave, which seemed less difficult, but probably due to some process being neglected or the heating time being incorrect, the sausages had undergone a magical transformation, looking like some sort of eerie monster.

Moving his feet so as not to make a sound, the man headed to the dining room, lightly placing a hand on the large table and elegantly gazing at the tabletop. Fragments of yellow and green were floating on a sea of white.

“Fruits yogurt,” the man whispered, as if it were a magic spell, heaving a spring breeze-like sigh.

It was just chopped fruits floating on yogurt. Taking into account the possibility that he could not cut the fruits too meticulously, the man was out of luck to have a slicer with him, and by the moment he realized that this one was apparently not supposed to be used for fruits but rather for slicing things such as cabbages and carrots into thin pieces, the fruits that he had failed to chop had gone flying over the table, surrounding the bowl of yogurt and instantaneously creating a Genesis-like scene on the tabletop. It was chaos.

On 360 degrees, no matter where he looked, it was a foodstuff hell. After looking around one more time at the artistic misery he had created and sighing coarsely, he started anew and began doing a quick cleaning.

   “Morning, Richard. You slept well, I see.”

“Good morning, Seigi. So you wake up early even in Sri Lanka. Short sleepers have shorter lives. Didn’t you go to bed yesterday when it was already past midnight?”

“That’s fine for today. I have a guest here, after all. I’ll catch up with my sleep tomorrow.”

“I have not done so much to be called a ‘guest’.”

“There, there; let’s leave that for after we eat.”

His face looking like he was checking on something, the man whose appearance was impeccable even first-thing in the morning, as usual, glanced at the kitchen and dining room of my Sri Lankan house, and then let out a tiny sigh, stopping by a place close to the garden.

“Hey, could it be you woke up early this morning? Like, around 5AM...”

“Why?”

“I wonder if it was my imagination.”

In this three-story house, the first floor was a shared space for the dining room and bathroom, while the second and third floors had bedrooms. The room that I used as my main one was on the second floor, and the room on the third floor was used when Richard came over to be my overseer, but only the first floor had a bathroom. Whenever someone was going down to the first floor, one could tell by the sound of them stepping on the stairs. That was no big deal when I was alone, but this was the kind of house that would disturb other people’s sleep if I didn’t walk quietly whenever I needed to use the toilet in the middle of the night.

At around five o’clock, probably because I was drowsy, I had the feeling that someone had gone downstairs. I went back to sleep thinking that maybe Richard, who was looking after me despite having a jetlag, felt like having a late-night snack or something, but it was apparently a wrong guess.

Said man, dressed in a soft-looking shirt and the beige pants that he usually wore when he was relaxed, was standing still with eyes wide-open. It seemed he had noticed what was on the table. I was happy with the reaction.

“I’ve got breakfast for us. Hope it suits your taste.”

“Why? You said yesterday that your breakfast was just cereal and fruits.”

“I indeed said this yesterday, but I wanted to show it’s really not like that every single day. I also didn’t want you to worry for no reason.”

Plain omelets, sausages and fruit salad. For some reason, this house had many pottery dishes from European brands instead of Sri Lankan ones, but they were working out well for today. The paintings of green and pink pedicels over a white background were apparently from a German brand. It was actually my first time making a breakfast like this, which looked like it could show up in a commercial for some newly built apartment building and wasn’t as filling as its appearance suggested, but it had been surprisingly fun.

“I saw the recipe book in the kitchen. It’s a present for me, right? Thank you. I was happy to read a book in Japanese after so long, so I decided to make the part that showed up when I opened it into our menu. Now, now, please have a seat and eat up.”

For about solid ten seconds, Richard stared at the one-plate breakfast, his gaze looking like he was seeing a stone that he had never set his eyes on before, but then, after giving a start as if just remembering that I existed, he sat down with his same-old graceful demeanor.

“Well then, shall we?”

And so, Richard ate breakfast next to me. At times like these, this man would become extremely well-mannered, taking notice of and praising the details, such as the fineness of the omelet’s texture and the beauty of the fruit cuts in the yogurt, as if he were evaluating a five-million-yen jewelry or something. Even while being in Sri Lanka, I sometimes thought that if there were teachers like him in middle or high school around Japan, it would save many children.

“Thanks; that makes me happy. I’m benefiting from it too. Getting so many compliments for just boiling sausages.”

I didn’t know very well how to describe Richard’s face when I said that. His expression seemed like it could be the theme of a masterpiece painting, as if the exceptionally beautiful man had suddenly been reminded of an indescribable pain in the depths of his chest, but was struggling not to expose it in his facial expression. When I asked what was up, the reply was a gentle smile. His usual face was already back.

“I believe I have already said this several times, but you are extremely smart. You decipher the texts, assemble the methods in your head and put them to practice. There are more hardships in this process than you can imagine. Nevertheless, you specialize at it. This is clearly a talent of yours. Be sure to cherish it.”

“I will. But, well, I think doing my best because someone else’s gonna eat it also counts.”

For security reasons, I wasn’t allowed to invite guests to this house. I was sometimes called over to the house of a local friend I had made, and then I’d cook a simple dish there, but guests that make several meticulous dishes on the spot were probably not very welcome. So whenever there were days like these, when “guests” officially recognized by the house’s owner, Saul-san, occasionally came over, it was a great opportunity for me have a change of pace.

While thanking Richard for washing the dishes, I cleaned up the dining room and before moving on to stone study, which was my daily routine in the morning (at any rate, I had to examine stones thoroughly, guess their prices and drill the right and wrong ones into my head; pretty simple), I asked him about lunch. Richard-sensei was very busy. No time for leisure.

“You’ll be off again in the evening flight, right? What we gonna do about lunch? If you’re leaving at three o’clock, then you’ll still be in Kandy at noon, right? Can we go to a restaurant I like?”

“What a good thing it is that you found a ‘restaurant you like’ in this country. Allow me to accompany you.”

While smiling, Richard was about to let out a yawn, yet he hastily bit it down. He was like a prideful cat. As I thought, he seemed a little sleepy. When I suggested him to go to bed again, he said that he didn’t mind it, since he was going to sleep in the night flight either way. And yet he was calling me a short sleeper.

I glanced at the dining room and the kitchen. They were neatly organized. From their tidy and orderly state, I could tell with just a look that I obviously hadn’t cleaned them to this point last night. There wasn’t a single speck of dust on the floor. Despite the difference between the inside and outside of the house being so vague. There was no evidence left, but it was clear that something had happened here. Not a murder, but a more peaceful and heartwarming incident. The suspect showed no signs of confessing. So I wouldn’t say anything either. No particular comments on the multiple rags and some food remains at the bottom of the organic waste bag. I only had one thing that I wanted to say no matter what, so I hoped he’d just let me say it.

After finishing the meal, I waited for the beautiful man to stand up, and then I went behind Richard, clutching his shoulders. I was going to say it before he turned around, asking what I was doing. It was best if I didn’t see his face. There was no telling what I could say when I was staring at him in fascination.

“I myself don’t know very well what I’m talking about, so I want you to forget it in two seconds, but I was reeeally happy for this morning. Really happy. To a shocking extent.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I said I didn’t know either, right? I don’t get it, but anyway, I was happy. That’s all! Aight, study time.”

Without looking at Richard’s face until the very end, I started knocking a thousand gemstones in my workspace on the first floor. I had to look over them while it was morning. This was my current job. Richard didn’t say anything else, but his back looked calm under his shirt, so I was a bit relieved as well. Thinking back on it now, I had taken the wrong path at that time. I should have told him “not to overdo it” more clearly.

Two weeks later, Richard came back, but this time, I heard a small explosion at 6AM. Three times in a row. What did it take for things to turn out this way? The current time was already 7AM. Between getting up right now or not, which one would be less of a hassle later on? I didn’t even want to think about what had been made of the dining room. There was no one other than the two of us in this house and this wasn’t a matter that I had to go as far as asking the landlord, Saul-san, for advice on, so I knew I was the one who had to deal with it anyway. I wanted someone to decide in my stead. What should I do?

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #housekishou richard #jeweler richard #the case files of jeweler richard #nakata seigi #richard ranashinha de vulpian #richard ranashinghe de vulpian #richard #jr short story collection #tsujimura nanako #yukihiro utako #novel #my translation

[phoenixyfriend]

The Naruto/Frozen Crossover

So I was planning on just doing an image ID thing for this post, but apparently the formatting on desktop is such a mess that it’s easier to just make a new post that’s text only. I can also like. Bulletpoint it so that it can be a little neater. All ideas were made with @firebirdeternal​‘s help, because they are the most efficient enabler I have.

Also I added some bits at the end.

Under a cut, because it’s Long As Heck.

I originally had two options: either Mid-teens Elsa and Anna being transported to ninja land sometime pre-canon and running into Haku and Zabuza... or just like. Born as a Daimyou's daughters.

Spoiler alert, we’ve got nukenin and I’m a sucker for an intrusive crossover, so transported to ninja land it is.

Suggestion from Birdie:

Mechanism for crossover: Elsa ices over a Wishing Well by accident after having Wished for someone else who understood her, Anna and her fall in and get Ice Mirror Portaled to Ninjaland, falling out of an iced over pond near a shrine that Haku recently prayed at for similar lonely child reasons?

Which I like! They don’t end up there soon enough to run into Haku, because I want a dramatic chase first, but I like it.

Obviously, Anna is forced to learn about Elsa's powers because it's the only thing keeping them safe

Or at least alive

(Elsa will do ANYTHING to keep Anna safe, and if that means she has to get her hands dirty...)

...neither of them knows Japanese, so, you know. There’s that.

I'm thinking that they end up in/near Kiri at first

And they aren't FAST ENOUGH to get away so Elsa panic-enchants a giant reindeer made of snow to run away across the suddenly-frozen ocean.

She and Anna have to ride and Elsa is probably crying the whole time.

Oh shit this is like. RIGHT after their parents die, I forgot. So that’s a thing! They are in mourning and all that fun stuff.

Point is, they use the powers for a Self Defense thing and BBY Haku is just !!! "Master can we rescue them for Ice Cousin reasons?" Zabuza: Yes, and only for those practical reasons and not because I collect endangered children like people collect pokemon cards.

I imagine that maybe they track rumors of a Yuki-onna down, or the Giant Snow Reindeer rides by and Haku’s just like Wat

The girls just tag along with Zabuza because. Like.

Do they like him? No. Do they trust him? No. Do they enjoy the fact that he considers them pathetic civilians? No.

However, Haku is Baby.

Zabuza is REALLY annoyed at them being Useless Civilian Royals “but Haku likes them so I guess they can stay.”

Age at meeting, three years pre-canon:

Zabuza - 23

Elsa - 18

Anna - 15

Haku - 12

Elsa is 90% anxiety/depression master combo BUT if Zabzua protects her then she's WILDLY dangerous so like. Whatever

Elsa's bingo book nickname options, uninspired:

Winter Witch

Winter Queen

Ice Queen

Snow Queen

Something about a Yuki-Onna maybe

She's Very Stately and kinda breakable but Winter is her Bitch

I mean like, the fact that, if protected, she can shut down the agriculture of a fucking country? That's an S-rank even if she's not that useful in a fight.

She's like. Jinchuuriki-level destruction. Generally speaking she wouldn’t. But she could.

Elsa: What the fuck is a chakra? Elsa: my snow monsters are self-sustaining. Elsa: I'm gonna build us a house.

Zabuza has NO idea how her powers work and it is INCREDIBLY frustrating but “there’s no chakra cost to keep these things going and we have shelters on demand” is too convenient to question after a while.

Haku: Delicate, deadly, incredibly fast ninja work. Elsa: I can't dodge a kunai but watch me wreck your entire country's ecosystem in under a day.

Elsa is a siege weapon.

Meanwhile, Anna is really, really into the physicality of ninja practice.

She's clumsy and she's not very good at ninja stuff, but she sure is determined!

Anna also gets on Zabuza's nerves because she keeps insisting that Haku get to be a kid.

Anna: Let's make flower crowns! Zabuza: No, he needs to train, not- Anna: FLOWER CROWNS

Consider: Haku saying Elsa-nee-sama and Anna-hime.

Or just calling Elsa “onee-sama.”

Anna is also younger than Elsa and way more Fun so she probably gets adjusted to Anna-chan or Nee-chan.

If Zabuza calls Elsa “Hime-chan” or “Elsa-hime” or, Sage forbid, “Elsa-sama/dono” then he’s VERY MUCH making fun of her and he’s probably getting his soup frozen that night.

At one point, Elsa... tries to like. Convince herself to have a crush on Zabuza or Kakashi or something until Zabuza just puts a hand on her shoulder and asks "do you even like men?" "...that's an OPTION?"

Zabuza urging her to try and ask out a Cute Kunoichi and Elsa's like.... I can't decide if she's bright red and a useless lesbian or uncomfortable and ace.

I am SO invested in the siege weapon thing.

SHE IS THE SQUISHIEST WIZARD.

It's not her fault that every single other combatant on the continent is Massively Dangerous in melee! She took a very traditional back-line build!

Enemy: Doesn't it GRATE to protect someone so pathetic, Zabuza? Zabuza: She literally froze an entire castle of enemies to death because they harmed her sister, so. No.

Most Ninjas: Sharp Knife. S-Rank Mega Ninjas: Gun. Elsa: High Yield Explosive Rocket Launcher. Literally loses fights to the Knife People, because she can't bring her power to bear on that scale. But if you can give her Time and Prep? No contest.

Long distance AoE

Like  you know how Nagato is literally dying of starvation due to illness and can't walk, but he's also capable of leveling powerful villages more or less on his own?

Elsa is the same Vibe.

It’s like sealing a bijuu in a civilian.

She's honestly both more and less powerful? Like it'd be hard for her to kill everyone in Konoha in the snap of a finger? But also, she could starve out the Country of Fire in a summer.

She WOULDN'T, but she could.

I always read Elsa as gay or ace but my brain keeps trying to ship her with dude ninjas and I have to yank it back on a child leash.

People insinuate that Zabuza is interested in Elsa and he's just "What? Ew she's like five."

"I'm eighteen."

"Five."

BUT

Elsa! Might mistake trust and companionship for a crush!

I can see THAT happening despite gay/ace.

Also like. I don’t think Zabuza is straight.

So mlm/wlw solidarity?

And Haku is probs genderqueer.

So Anna is THE TOKEN STRAIGHT.

Anna is like, the Straight Friend who will go to the mat for her queer friends. Like vicious. In-your-face barking like a mean dog at people who were being bigots.

You know how Elsa in the second movie uses her powers to make toys for kids out of ice?

Okay, so her practicing by making things with Haku.

But yeah, Elsa can't really do "throws ice senbon," but she can do Delicate Geometry Things since she apparently, canonically studies math for fun and loves fractals.

Haku: I can trap you in a prison of ice mirrors, and you are at my mercy. Elsa: LOOK AT THIS CASTLE I MADE???

Haku wants to do Pretty Things like Elsa

OH.

Elsa makes... snow bunnies..

For the ninja distraction reasons but also because it's a Soft Thing that makes her feel better about, uh, everything. And Haku likes bunnies.

Zabuza still takes The Dirty Missions but Elsa gets upset when he does something that hurts innocents and Nobody wants Elsa upset. Even Zabuza doesn't want Elsa upset.

When Elsa gets upset, overnight accommodations are suddenly Very Uncomfortable for everyone except her and Haku.

And then Anna gets upset, which makes Elsa even MORE upset.

And then things just keep getting colder.

Zabuza doesn't want Elsa upset for many reasons, not limited to: "Is actually capable of killing me from outside of Sword Range if she's mad enough, even if it’s not that easy" and "the Small Children would be unbearably sad if she died and honestly so might I."

She's more of a friend than a ward and he's not entirely sure he's okay with that.

Zabuza: "Ew, friendship."

He has absolutely no idea how to have a social interaction with people he isn't Bullying, Raising, or Threatening to Kill.

Elsa and Anna have no trouble convincing people they're related, at least. Different coloration with almost identical bone structure.

A tendency to burst into song when they feel emotions.

Identical weird accent that nobody can place.

FOOD

The girls are royalty, they don't know how to COOK.

But they also want food from HOME.

It's a lot of trial and error.

More error than not, since they have both no knowledge and also a language barrier to overcome. It probably takes YEARS before they can describe things like Unfamiliar Flavors well enough for people to say "OH that sounds like spearmint."

When they run into something they know that’s familiar, it’s life-changing.

Chocolate is more common in the elemental nations than in Arandelle and Anna may or may not cry about it.

Anna is loudly bossy, even at Zabuza.

Zabuza is gruffly commanding, to everyone.

Elsa doesn't actually like being in charge, but when she talks, people LISTEN.

(Haku is just happy to be here.)

Elsa radiates two things: Anxiety, and Natural Command, and she basically just fluctuates between those.

"I don't want to be in charge but also I'm vetoing this."

So, obviously, the main reasons that Zabuza keeps the girls around is that Elsa is a living siege weapon and he thinks she could be convinced to help him run a revolution in Kiri, and also that the Ice Queen schtick is like. Really good for Haku and Zabuza can’t really say no to the kid.

HOWEVER, Anna is clumsy and messy and all that, so Zabuza starts training her in Ninja stuff. Elsa joins in on the “I need to know how to Run Fast to get away from fights I don’t want to have in the first place,” but Anna’s the one that’s like “TEACH ME HOW TO SWORD.”

It’s honestly not that hard to teach her, she’s just really, really, REALLY enthusiastic.

Once or twice someone asks why she’s so bad at this yet running around with an A-rank nukenin and Zabuza’s just like “I’ve only had her for a year and a half, shut up!” because it’s not that he’s a bad teacher, it’s that she was a very pampered civilian until like a week before he met her.

He should get a MEDAL for even getting her to low Chuunin.

Zabuza: I'm taking a job from Gato Elsa, who has Training in economics and politics and bureaucracy: I have a better idea.

This is actually not entirely what I’d do but I wanted to make the joke first ANYWAY here’s an actual plot or something.

Oh, also by this point everyone is Canon Ages so Elsa’s 21 and Anna’s 18 and Zabuza’s 26 and Haku’s 15.

Elsa is getting paid to keep the water from interfering with construction, by way of....

ICE COFFERDAM

Elsa with Haku as her Guard while Zabuza is off running his own mission? Which Anna begged to go on because Cool.

Elsa also kind of keeps her involvement on the ice front semi-secret by claiming she’s there as an engineering consultant.

LISTEN canon made her like geometry, I can ENTIRELY believe she’d be excited about the bridge-building.

Gato has hired someone else on the danger level of Zabuza, who is Threatening to Team 7 + Haku? But then when things look bleak Anna and Zabuza arrive and then Scary Sword Man is on our side and oh dear that's a lot of blood.

Which, you know, fun!

Birdie suggested Raiga which I’m not feeling but I do feel the need to bring up as an option.

It’s also not Kisame BUT

Kisame: [giant lake dome filled with sharks]

Elsa: uhhhhhhhhhhh...

Giant lake dome: [is now a giant ice dome]

Anyway

Gato: I'm hiring an army. Elsa: [giant ice wall around his compound] Gato: ... these guys can walk up walls! Elsa: [adds snowman guards] Elsa: ... Elsa: [adds a ceiling]

Just puts Gato's entire mob in a fucking snow globe.

Zabuza shows up twenty minutes late with (Throwing) Star(buck)s just like "Oh, they dead? No? Want 'em to be? Okay cool I'm gonna go pick up Haku, I'll be back in like an hour."

Anna would... LOVE Naruto

ENERGETIC FRIENDLY GOOFBALL

"I found us a baby brother!" "No, we already have Haku." "BUT LOOK AT HIM."

Anna is only a year or two older than Itachi.

OH RIGHT

I wanted to make a joke about how Naruto also vibes with her because he's less judgmental that she can't really... talk properly.

Sasuke is Judgy and Kakashi is Paranoid and Sakura is Uncomfortable.

Meanwhile Naruto is just like "And I Shall Scream."

Anna, who learned Japanese from Zabuza (rude) and Haku (uber polite): WELL FUCK YOU, GOOD SIR Naruto: YEAH WELL FUCK YOU TOO, LADY Elsa, overly formal: I am... so very sorry.

Anyway, generic missing nin fights and all that.

Elsa gets injured in the process and after a variety of arguments, Naruto manages to convince them to take her to Konoha for medical attention.

Elsa is... usually the one getting injured.

Zabuza and Haku are FAST and Anna is at least learning (even if she’s only been doing it for three years), but Elsa is The Squishy Wizard.

If someone throws a kunai... she can’t... really dodge...

So yeah, gut wound.

Normally they find a nukenin medic to patch them up but Konoha is reasonably close and has some of the more skilled medics on the continent and they DID technically help the Konoha nin so like. Gah.

That’s Zabuza’s final thought. Gah.

Just “Fuck it, let’s save the ice queen.”

Elsa ends up in a half-literal-ice stasis state on the way there and it’s happened before (it is not the first time she’s been stabbed), but it’s always terrifying.

Especially to the Konoha genin who are just like WHAT THE HECK IS THAT.

So they get to Konoha, there’s a whole bunch of stuff about extradition treaties and “you are bringing a literal WMD of a woman into our town” and “we can’t just let MOMOCHI ZABUZA in.”

Anyway, it ends up being that Zabuza has to wait outside the village while Elsa is treated inside, and one of the Teenagers goes in. Obviously, it’s Anna, because Zabuza is INCREDIBLY UNCOMFORTABLE with letting Haku enter a village that’s known for having lots of bloodlines, and anyway, Anna’s the sister.

Bunch of stuff, she’s healing, etc, and then one day Anna comes in and is told “your sister had a bad reaction to the anesthetic, we couldn’t save her, I’m sorry, she’s gone.”

She flips out, gets shown the corpse, flips out MORE, gets escorted out to the village walls where Zabuza and Haku are waiting.

Horrified reactions

Zabuza doesn’t want to admit that it’s EMOTIONS because this is his FRIEND, he is clearly just upset about losing the living siege weapon.

Haku is just super confused and goes “But she’s not dead.”

“What.”

“She’s not dead, I can feel her, I can always feel her, it’s like sensing but just her, because we’re both ice. She’s alive, somewhere over... there?”

And points right in the direction of the Hokage Mountain, which for the purposes of this fic and also Drama is where ROOT headquarters is.

YEP we absolutely have that plot point.

Is Danzo overused as a plot device? Probably. Am I going to diabolus ex machina him anyway? Ye.

They kick up enough of a fuss that the Hokage gets called down.

He wouldn’t, normally, he’d leave it to a couple of skilled jounin and call it a day, except Naruto got involved so like. You can’t. Ignore that.

There’s lots of shouting.

Just like. A lot.

And then part of the mountain explodes!

AS ONE DOES

Elsa comes flying backwards out of the hole, catches herself on a spontaneous ice slide, gets to her feet.

Girl is swaying like MAD.

There are absolutely ANBU (both fake and real) coming after her.

At least one of them gets speared through by an ice spike.

Anna runs up to her, tries to hug her, gets batted away.

Elsa’s staring at her in sheer TERROR and starts muttering something about how Anna died years ago, this isn’t real, etc.

Nobody except Anna understands most of it, but Haku picks up enough to translate when Anna’s freaking out.

Elsa starts doing her Ice Castle thing in the middle of Konoha as a coping mechanism, mostly so she can get Up and Away and Shielded By Ice.

This is not a good look.

Especially because she’s singing, which Zabuza always thinks is a bad omen because it means shit is getting real and one or both of the girls are about to get a powerup or be beaten even harder than otherwise. When they start singing, things get More Dramatic And Extreme).

(Zabuza does not like Disney Musical Rules)

Danzo shows up.

There’s a bunch of arguing.

All the medics insist that nothing she was given at the hospital should have caused amnesia, psychosis, hallucinations, delusions, etc.

It’s. Not hard for Hiruzen to guess what happened.

Namely that Danzo, upon finding out that chakra dampeners didn’t do shit since none of Elsa’s powers come from chakra, decided to keep her drugged up and start using genjutsu to make her more malleable.

Because like. An injured WMD just showed up in your village. What are you supposed to do, not try to kidnap her and turn her to your side? Like, come on. What was he supposed to do?

Not that, Danzo. Literally Not That.

IDK how it gets resolved, probably Anna getting to her with the power of love, because Elsa is ultimately Super Disney.

I also don’t really know where to go from there other than “Maybe Jiraiya can get you home, but also I’m pretty sure Zabuza wants you all to get the hell out of here and take over Kiri” but who knows.

Also

IMAGINE ELSA MEETING GAI.

Imagine Ino getting a puppy crush on Elsa.

IDK that’s it for now.

#Frozen #Naruto #Momochi Zabuza #Yuki Haku #Zabuza #Haku #mini fic #Phoenix Babbles #Crossovers #Phoenix Posts

[yuta1forme]

like magnets | ten

summary: in which you and ten are up and coming choreographers who are forever at each other’s throats. but maybe fighting is just an excuse to get close.

pairing: ten x reader

genre: angsty fluff

warnings: some swearing, alcohol mention, loads of bickering

length: 4.3k

tag list: @sly-merlin​ @animegirl366​ @yonoohcore​

He’s confident to the point of arrogance. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. When the pair of you start fighting, all the other dancers make their way out of the studio, not wanting to get involved in another explosive Y/N-Ten showdown. He counters your every suggestion. He always has more critique for your performances than praise. 

And yet, he is the best dance partner you could ever ask for. He matches your poise with his passion. In dance, you both have found a middle ground. 

When Ten first joined the studio you really wanted to like him. He was a young, up and coming dancer from Thailand. What you had not seen coming was that besides being the same age, you and Ten had precious little in common. The day you first met Ten, you had decided in less than ten seconds that you two would never, to put this lightly, become the “best of friends”. 

You had entered the break room of the studio that day, late and soaking wet because of the heavy downpour that had begun the night before. Hungry and disgruntled, all you had wanted to do was to grab a steaming cup of green tea and the last of your favorite jelly doughnuts. Only the thought of those jelly doughnuts had you hanging on during your hour and forty-five-minute long journey to work this morning. They were your emotional support food, your one and only indulgence. After almost three years at the studio, all the other dancers knew not to touch your jelly doughnuts. All except for the bucket-hat wearing Thai newbie who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo. 

“Those were my doughnuts”, you had barely managed to huff out, focusing your mind on not raising your voice or worse, bursting into tears.

Now, if he had just apologized for eating them without asking you first, you both might not have started off on the wrong foot. No, the fucker just shrugged and said, “Didn’t see your name on them”. No shame in his eyes, not an ounce of regret in his voice. The powdered sugar from your doughnuts still around his mouth and dusted over his all-black ensemble. That fucker.

“So people just waltz into a room and eat someone else’s snacks where you’re from?”, you asked, your pitch becoming shriller with annoyance. 

“No of course not. Because where I’m from, people don’t leave their snacks where everyone can see them, without putting their name on it first”, he replied, cool as a cucumber. 

Taeyong had entered the break room at this point. He took one look at the powdered sugar on Ten’s face and the eyes-gonna-pop-out expression on yours and connected the dots. As one of the senior choreographers in the studio, Taeyong had developed a sixth sense for sniffing out conflicts before they broke out. 

“Y/N! I see you’ve already met Ten! He’s the new dancer from Thailand. Ten this is Y/N”, Taeyong had prompted by way of introductions, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and inching closer to the door he had entered from. 

“Oh, you’re Y/N. The one who choreographed the last Pink Cashmere comeback, right?”, Ten had asked, suddenly sitting up straight. Seeing that your conversation was turning civil, Taeyong had left the room just as quietly as he had entered it.

“Yes, that would be me”, you had responded. That was your first time working with an idol group and was a milestone in your career. You had spent weeks running on pure adrenaline and Americanos (and the occasional jelly doughnut), spending day and night listening to the new comeback track, reviewing concept photos and looking up old performances to get their style down just right. When you watched the girls perform the choreography for the first time, you were so immensely proud of yourself, you hadn’t stopped beaming for days. 

“I should’ve known it was you, it had your signature footwork style all over it”, Ten had said, nodding his head slightly. You had felt flattered at that, surprised that anyone had even picked up that you had a certain trademark in your choreography.

“But, I thought it was too showy if you know what I mean”, Ten had continued, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, a slight frown on his face. 

You were almost embarrassed at how much his words affected you. While you were used to internet trolls taking jabs at your work, it was something entirely different to hear full-blown criticism from your peers. As the youngest choreographer in the studio, you rarely got challenged when it came to choreography, with most of your colleagues wholeheartedly encouraging you to spread your wings and grow no matter the outcome. It probably was not intentional on their part but it had become a fear of yours - what if nobody would outwardly challenge your decisions because they thought you were too weak to handle the truth?

Still, you felt a need to defend your creative decision. You needed to stand up for yourself. “The girls are great dancers and I thought a more challenging choreography would push them out of their comfort zone. Sooji and Maya were actually part of a hip-hop dance crew pre-debut. They were itching to try out a new concept”. 

“But why not use more formations in the dance? It’s an eight-member group. You could’ve used that to your advantage”, Ten had countered. He made a good point. But you didn’t want to concede to him. Who did this man think he was? Walking in here and questioning your vision as a choreographer?, you though to yourself.

“Most of the other girl groups that came back around that time had similar songs but only Pink Cashmere had a distinct choreography. I wanted to make their choreography memorable”, you had said. 

Ten had remained quiet for a while. “I didn’t think of it that way”, he had replied, a thoughtful look on his face. “In that case, I think you succeeded at whatever you set out to do with that choreography.  It was definitely memorable, Y/N.”

He turned his gaze up towards your face and flashed you a sweet smile. He looked like a whole different person, almost innocently brushing powdered sugar off his cheeks like a mischievous cat who had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. 

Your whole first interaction with Ten had confused you. First he walked in acting like he owned the place, critiquing your choreography as if he was a veteran dancer. But then he had just as easily praised your abilities. But at the back of your mind you had this nagging feeling that whatever Ten had said to you was not in an effort to undermine you, unlike some of the backhanded compliments delivered by your peers. He had criticized you because he thought you could take it, because he thought of you as an equal. And you kind of enjoyed that.

Arguing with Ten became a part of your everyday routine thereafter. So did labelling your snacks with your names and leaving passive-aggressive messages on post-it notes.

At nineteen, you gave up a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious law school in your country and moved to Seoul with a single suitcase and your old school backpack in hand. Your family had threatened to cut off contact with you if you left the country, but you left anyway; Your passion for dance was stronger than your fear of losing them. Dance was your first love. You lived and breathed it. Like hell were you giving up on your first love that easy. 

You worked odd jobs during the day and filmed original choreographies for your YouTube channel during the night. After struggling for over a year, your hope slowly dwindling, you got a notification that changed your life. Kim Jongin, one of South Korea’s ballet prodigies had shared one of your videos on Twitter. Your subscriber count had quadrupled overnight, with hundreds of thousands of commenters dubbing you a “prodigy”. Fate brought you to Jongin, who then introduced you to Taeyong, who brought you to SM studios. 

It was a dream come true - for years you had only struggled, floating in dark and murky water, swimming forward towards a hazy future. Now, you had thousands of fans, dozens of supportive friends, and a solid foundation from where you could dream. Your friend Hendery liked to joke that you would need more than twenty-four hours a day if you wanted to do everything in your planner. And truth be told, he was right. You had given up a lot to pursue your dreams. Given up on your family, most of your friends, your home country. You wanted to make sure it was all worthwhile. So you wanted to spend every day making the most of the opportunities that you now had. You went to bed each night with a head full of ideas and woke up every morning with the fire to bring them to life. 

Of course, dedicating your life to your craft came at a cost. The rest of the world had not stopped moving just because you decided to make dance your life. This dawned on you one rosy Valentine’s Day evening, when you, date-less for the fifth year running, quite naively decided to scroll through Instagram. Amongst the sea of pink, flowers and picture-perfect happy couples were two faces that made your stomach instantly drop - your ex and a stunning woman posing for the camera with their fingers intertwined. On her ring finger, a diamond the size of a blueberry. 

You remember the day you broke things off with your ex like it was yesterday. You were at the airport, waiting to get on your flight to Seoul, positively buzzing with nerves. You had waited until you were seated on the plane to send your ex a rather heartless text message saying you were breaking up with him to find yourself and that it was best if he forgot you. Very dramatic, even for you. But you were nineteen and had just watched ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’. In return he had left you an equally dramatic voicemail, pleading with you to not end the relationship and proclaiming that he would never stop loving you. You had all but laughed at his message then.

You weren’t laughing anymore though. He was happily engaged, while you were lonely, lying in bed on Valentine’s day in a pizza grease-stained sweatshirt. You had spent the last few years working relentlessly which had given you a career that you could be proud of, friends you could rely on. But besides the occasional fling here and there, you didn’t have much in terms of a romantic life. You guessed you deserved this, that karma had finally caught up to you.  Didn’t stop you from feeling like shit though.

So you did what you always did when you felt particularly shitty. You went down to the studio, turned the music on full blast and dove right into a new choreography. You were freestyling, too lost in the moment to hear the door creak open.

“I gotta hand it to you, Y/N, that was pretty impressive!”, a male voice exclaimed. You had spun around expecting to see Sicheng or Hendery at the door. Instead, you were met with a tired but rather amused looking Ten.

He was dressed in a white silk shirt and a pair of black slacks. You noticed the roses in his hands, slightly wilted but still beautiful nonetheless. He was clearly dressed up for a date. He looked striking as always but you didn’t linger too long on that, thinking that it was your romance deprived mind projecting thoughts onto the first attractive male it saw. 

“What are you doing here? It’s Valentine’s day, don’t you have a crowd of screaming fans to attend to?”, you asked sarcastically.

“One date. And they stood me up, actually”, he replied with a bitter smile. He must have been quite upset if he didn’t have a snarky response for you.

You were truly taken aback. Ten? Getting stood up by someone? Ten, who could charm the socks off of anyone he set his eyes on, getting stood up on Valentine’s day? 

“But how?”, you blurted out, instantly regretting it when you saw the quizzical look on Ten’s face. Yet you foolishly continued mumbling, or rather digging yourself deeper into a hole.

“I mean, you’re just...so...you”, you said vaguely gesturing at his whole form. From his boyish good looks to his ability to sweet-talk, Ten’s charms were undeniable. Ever since he joined the studio, the number of signups for the afternoon classes had doubled. Dozens of people would come to the studio every day, just to catch a glimpse of him. And he indulged them all too, flashing them his signature grin or paying them a cheeky compliment. If only you weren’t all too familiar with the way he could run his mouth during an argument, you too might have fallen for his charms. 

“Sorry to disappoint you, Y/N, but I’m not quite the Casanova you expected me to be. But I will take that as a compliment”, he said with a wink that had you resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here though”, you mumbled out.  

“I like to choreograph at night. I think I’m my most creative after midnight. Besides I just got my heart broken and I should channel that emotional energy somewhere right?”, Ten said feigning nonchalance. You could tell he was genuinely upset from how his night had played out and couldn’t help but sympathize with him.

“Well, I’m here for reasons along similar lines. You could join me? Help me choreograph this new freestyle piece I’m working on?”, you had asked. 

Ten cocked his eyebrow at you, clearly not expecting you to extend an olive branch to him in this manner given how you were still being snarky with him five minutes ago. But he accepted your offer nonetheless.

You both entered your element pretty quickly, letting the music move your body freely. You worked out a simple choreography, cheering for each other when you came up with a particularly impressive move. You were having fun, even though you wouldn’t admit it to yourself. At least you hadn’t thought of your ex in the last couple of hours, mind completely occupied with the thought that you and Ten surprisingly made good dance partners. Perhaps the friction between the two of you translated to great chemistry when you were dancing. Taeyong would be pleased to know that.

“I’m beat”, you exclaimed, slumping down on the floor after the final round of practice. Ten sat down next to you, resting his back against the mirrored wall. The pair of you sat wordlessly for a few minutes, letting your heartbeats slow back down. You lay flat on the floor, too physically exhausted to move. As soon as you closed your eyes, your traitorous mind brought back the images of your ex’s engagement and you groaned loudly.

“Long day?”, Ten asked, giving you a slightly concerned look. You just chuckled bitterly in response.

“Want to talk about it?”, Ten pried in an almost uncharacteristically gentle voice. You wondered if he had ever spoken to you in that tone before. 

“I don’t know if we’re close enough to have little heart-to-hearts yet Ten”, you replied. There was an invisible wall between you and Ten that you were just not ready to tear down. The thought of sharing embarrassing details about your love life with someone you could consider a frenemy at best, too jarring. You didn’t miss the way Ten’s shoulders slightly slumped at that. You hadn’t meant to sound harsh, yet you felt somewhat guilty.

“But…maybe we are close enough to have a drink together?”, you asked, suddenly emboldened by a rush of confidence that confused even you. You took his cheeky smile as a yes.

You spent the rest of the night drunk and giggling with Ten. The thoughts of your ex were long forgotten. Perhaps you could learn to do more than merely tolerating Ten’s presence. Perhaps you could learn to enjoy his presence too.

Soon it became a ritual - if you and Ten were the last ones left in the studio, you would grab some beers and head to the roof. It was such strange departure from your usual selves that you often wondered why it was so easy for you to enjoy his company sitting under the stars like this when you would be at each other’s throats the rest of the time. 

Over time your conversations had gone from discussions about art, to plans of travelling the world, what you were currently binge-watching on Netflix, and everything in between. Still, there were some topics that you both steered clear of - talk of family and love lives was seemingly off the table.

Until one night after a couple of drinks, when Ten pulled his phone out to show you a picture of two women, one older and one younger. The striking resemblance between the faces in the photo and Ten confirmed that they were indeed his mother and sister. His sister was clad in a dark blue graduation gown and his mother was holding a beautiful bouquet of light pink roses. 

“She graduated last week, my baby sister”, Ten said practically glowing. The proud look on his face was a testament to the close relationship he had with his sibling. 

“You must miss her a lot”, you said, voice barely a whisper.

“All the time. My family are my biggest supporters. I don’t think I would have had the courage to move out here on my own if it weren't for their encouragement”, Ten answered. 

You hadn’t spoken to your family ever since you came to Seoul. In the past, the longing left a pressure in your chest that sometimes made it feel like your throat would close, choking you on your guilt. Now, it just left you numb. 

“What about you?”, Ten asked, cautiously prying into your personal life.

“What about me?”, you countered, diverting your gaze away from the man sitting next to you, instantly wary of how much you wanted to share about your past. 

“What about your family? Your old home?”, Ten asked. 

It couldn’t hurt sharing with Ten, right? It’s not like what he thought of you really mattered to you. Right?

“I actually don’t keep in touch with my family any more. They weren’t too keen on me becoming a dancer. It’s been, what, three? Three and a half years since I last saw them. When I first left home for Seoul”, you said, trying your hardest to suppress any trace of emotion in your voice. You kept your gaze focused on the city skyline ahead of you, too afraid to turn and see the expression on Ten’s face. You wondered what he thought of you, whether he thought you were stubborn. Worse yet, whether he pitied you.

After a few moments, Ten broke the silence. “I guess sometimes, not having a family is better than having one that doesn’t love you for who you are. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t possibly know how you must have felt, all these years. But I want you to know that the people who love you now, love you without any agenda. Not because they are related to you by blood, not because they are obligated to love you. But because they just love you”, Ten said, eyes shining with an emotion you didn’t know how to react to. 

“And they could be your family too”, he finished in a voice that was so warm, so gentle, you wondered if this really was the Ten who stole your jelly doughnuts when you first met.

You were speechless, processing his words for what felt like hours but was probably just a few seconds. Then you did the only thing your impulsive mind could think to do - you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. In response, he wrapped you up in his embrace. You stayed still, focusing on the faint scent of his cologne on the sleeves of his hoodie. You breathed out a thank you, soft as a whisper. Whether or not Ten heard you, he moved his left arm slightly, gently stroking your hair and continued to chatter on about some entirely different topic. 

You knew that once the sun came back up and both of you returned to your lives inside the studio, this little moment would not be brought up in front of anyone else. That moment was just for the two of you to share and bury deep within your hearts.

You knew you were in too deep one day when Ten gave you a friendly smile in passing while making his way to the break room, and you felt your cheeks and neck heat up. You had finally let the Thai dancer charm his way into your heart. 

Typical Y/N, you thought to yourself, Falling in love with any cute boy who gives you attention. But he wasn’t just any cute boy. It was Ten. Ten, your frenemy turned close confidant. Ten, who would send you pictures of cute animals he saw on the street just because you once told him you wanted to adopt a cat. Ten, who took you dancing to a club in Hongdae when you were feeling low and all but carried your drunk ass back to your home. Ten, who over the last couple of months had heard every single one of your deepest insecurities and had still chosen to stick by you. Ten who had just left a box of jelly doughnuts in the break room, next to a post-it note with your name on it. To make matters worse, you were supposed to start working on a new collaboration together this week, a contemporary piece set to an R&B slow jam. How were you meant to work with him all week when you could barely make eye contact with him? You had to physically restrain yourself from facepalming.

You spent the week, evading conversation with him beyond work and some small talk to fill the silence. But none of your usual banter. You had even turned down his suggestion to grab dinner together several times that week, to the point that even typically non-confrontational Sicheng had picked up that something was off.

“Why have you been avoiding Ten all week? I thought you guys had given up fighting?”, Sicheng asked after he cornered you one day.

“Avoiding him? Now, why would I do that when we’ve been working together all week?”, you had chuckled nervously, desperately looking for an out from this conversation.

“He’s been sulking around since Tuesday, Y/N. He said he doesn’t know what he did to upset you”, Sicheng had asked you sharply. 

The guilt in your eyes must have been apparent because Sicheng dropped his voice into a gentle whisper for what he said next. 

“I know the two of you are as good at dancing around your feelings as you are at dancing on stage. But maybe try talking to him, Y/N? I think right now, you two might have more in common than you think”, Sicheng told you as he gave you a knowing look. 

The day of the performance shoot came and there was a noticeable awkwardness between you and Ten. You decided to cut the tension by apologizing to him, citing the nerves for the performance as the reason you had been on edge the whole week. Whether or not Ten believed you, he accepted your apology and wrapped you up in his arms. You wished you had psychic abilities so you could read his mind. Did he have the same butterflies in his stomach right now?

As soon as the music started any nervousness you felt around Ten melted away. Dancing with him was like second nature to you by now. The song started with you on stage alone, dancing under the single spotlight illuminating the stage. You could see him out of the corner of your eyes, following your every move and observing you with nothing short of adoration. You left the stage for Ten’s solo and you could feel the goosebumps on your skin from watching him perform. He was absolutely stunning, moving fluidly through the movements as though he was painting with his body on the canvas of the stage. You joined him on stage for the chorus, dancing apart but facing one another as though mirroring the other’s movements. Through the bridge you inched closer and closer to one another. You felt your heartbeat beginning to rise from the proximity. 

Both of you could communicate with each other with your eyes alone. You danced perfectly in sync with one another, pulling apart only to fall right back into each other, just like magnets. So different yet inseparable. You could see it in his eyes, when he looked at you, that the emotion in his mirrored yours. You knew you weren’t imagining it when he audibly gasped as you melted into his embrace for the final move. His heartbeat was racing a hundred miles an hour, just like yours. The pair of you stood there, lips just a few millimeters apart, breathing deeply as the studio erupted into thunderous applause. You were no longer afraid to admit to yourself and to the world, that you had it bad for Ten Lee. 

And when he kissed you on the rooftop that night, you knew that he had it bad for you too. 

#ten #ten scenarios #ten angst #ten fluff #ten imagines #nct #wayv #nct ten #wayv ten #nct scenarios #nct imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #nct angst #nct fluff #wayv angst #wayv fluff #moonrise

[thebestofoneshots]

Christmas Times

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Prompt: In which you and Bucky have to get the Christmas tree for the compound and decorate it afterwards. Set on an AU whee Bucky joins the team before civil war happens.

Notes: Some Christmas fluff because I’m getting festive. Also Sebs new IG post inspired me I couldn’t stop myself.

Warnings: I mean reader does bump into her very mean aunt but she gets put on her place so it’s nothing you can’t handle.

You stood outside the door only a few seconds before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” You heard his husky voice from the inside of the room. So he was sleeping. He had a late mission last night you recalled, it made sense that he would still be sleeping.

You opened the door “hey! Sorry to wake you, But we need to get the Christmas tree for the common room.”

He was lying on the bed, covers on top of him but arms over them, the silver arm shinning with the small rays of sunset that slipped from the window, you could see his muscular frame. His now short hair a little messy on the pillow. “A Christmas tree? Doesn’t Tony have like a bunch of people that decorate and stuff?”

“Yes... he does. But apparently is a tradition that someone from the team buys the tree and decorates it. Said it was our turn.”

He drew a deep breath “Ok, then. I’m coming,” he smiled and stood from the bed. He was only wearing a pair of tight boxers and he turned quickly to grab his jeans so you couldn’t see much more than his muscular back, and obviously his ass, but you blushed anyway. You’d develop a small crush on the Winter Soldier since you joined the team.

“I’ll uh... wait outside,” you said and started going out.

“No, it’s fine I’m ready,” He said turning around. Still shirtless and walking to his closet to put on a shirt quickly. You turned to the side to hide your blush. Is not like you hadn’t seen him shirtless before, he went for a swim every other day. But his environment was different, it felt homier? Perhaps... “You ok?”

“What?” You asked turning your face back to him.

“You seemed... lost in thought.”

“Did I?... I didn’t notice. Shall we go?” You said skillfully changing the subject and started walking outside. “You know? I’m lucky I got paired with you to get the tree,” you spoke, a small smile appeared on his face as you did. He enjoyed spending time with you as well. “Your super soldier strength will come in super handy...”

“Is that the only reason you’re lucky? I was hoping it was because of my magnetic personality,” he joked.

“Oh, curse is not the only reason Buck,” you smiled as you playfully punched his arm.

The two of you got to the parking lot by then and grabbed the truck. You took the driver's seat since you knew the modern New York better than he did.

“Do we need to get ornaments as well?” He asked as you passed a few Christmas stores.

“Tony said he had some saved but we could buy anything we liked, every avenger has added their own special thing to the tree of something like that, that’s what makes it special,” you explained.

“When did you even talk to Tony about this? I thought he was in Europe.”

“Oh, he left a video recording and told FRIDAY to help me with whatever else.”

“There!” He said pointing outside “over there there was a very beautiful one,” he explained. You had to continue for a bit to be able to get to the other side of the road and then a bit more to find a parking spot but after a while, you finally stopped.

“I’ll follow you,” you said as you got out of the car and closed it by pressing the small button on the key. A few minutes later Bucky and you were looking at the many different trees in the garden.

“(Y/N)?” He called as you absently looked at one of the trees.

“Mhm?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we got a plastic tree? Reuse it every year? To avoid climate change and deforestation?”

“You’ve been watching way to much Discovery channel,” you giggled “but actually, I was wondering the same thing and I googled it, apparently a plastic tree is worse unless you reuse it for more than 5 years, and it’s wasteful either way because I’ll end up on a landfill. But Tony promised he’d plant 10 pine trees for every Christmas tree used in the tower so that’s even better!”

“We should buy two then,” he said with a smile.

All right, let’s take a picture, you said as you took out your phone and posted him in front of a Christmas tree. As you were taking the picture you saw someone that made you quickly lower your head and fast walk towards Bucky to use him as a hiding spot.

“What?” He said looking around alert.

“Nothing, just. My aunt is there! I haven’t seen her in a while, and she’s just going to continue nagging me about getting a boyfriend “ you explained “so I’m just gonna, go hide for a while,” you said and quickly walked behind some trees leaving Bucky in that same spot.

As you hid in between a few trees and turned your back pretending to be really distraught by a random tree when someone taped on your shoulder. You frowned and cursed under your breath before turning with a smile.

“(Y/N)!” She smiled pulling you into a hug “I thought it was you back there.

“Aunt Linda! How’s it been?” You asked her smiling.

“Oh just fine, that’s what. I wanted to come here with your cousins but they were too busy to come. So I had to come to get the tree all by myself. What about you? Did you come alone too? I know you don’t have many friends anyway but maybe you convinced someone to help you...” she smiled.

“I... ugh—“

“—doll! I finally find you! I lost you a few trees back, I was about to tell you I found the perfect tree for home.”

“Bucky I...“

“Home?” Your aunt asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Aunt Linda this is—“

“—Her boyfriend,” Bucky answered pulling one of his charming gentleman smiles from the ’40s, “you can call me James,” he stretched his arm “it’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she smiled “such a handsome man! Never thought my niece would get a man like you. You’re out of her ligue.” Yes, that was Aunt Linda, poisonous words and all. And people wondered why you were hiding from her. “And to be honest, I was starting to think she was lesbian. 25 years and you’re the first one.” She finished.

You smiled “And there would be nothing wrong with me being a lesbian, would it?” you frowned. Bucky pulled you closer to him, with his flesh arm on your waist.

“Oh, of course not honey but you know, you’re already the family’s black sheep. You wouldn’t wanna make it even more evident. People would talk.”

“People like you I suppose,” spit Bucky from the side. He seemed to be getting rather angry at her. He clearly hadn’t had the brilliant opportunity to spend a whole Christmas with her and her vicious words or he’d understand she was actually being polite.

“Oh no darling, I would never, but some people on the family can be very creative, in a negative way if you know what I mean. So... how did you two meet?”

“At work.” You answered quickly, wanted to get away from there as soon as possible.

“Oh... at work...” she replied viciously, “well it’s not a surprise since you’re always working.”

“Yes, the minute she walked into the office for the first time she caught my eye. She wore a black suit and was walking alongside our boss looking like an angel. But it wasn’t until we got our first assignment together that I fell completely and utterly in love with her. With her mind and her voice and her everything. She has this way of analyzing situations and finding solutions, it’s incredible.”

You looked back at Bucky and then to your aunt who stood there with her mouth agape. You looked back at Bucky again and thought to yourself ‘damn he was a good actor. Little did you know he hadn’t been acting.

But then a busy woman walked passed really fast, pushing Bucky and casing his glove to fall on the floor. The glove that covered his metal arm.

She pulled his hand towards hers to look at it as you leaned to pick the glove up. Bucky seemed uncomfortable.

“Oh, you don’t have a hand.”

“It’s my whole arm actually,” Bucky corrected. You’d think no one would dare to say something offensive in a situation like this but there was Aunt Linda for you.

“Oh, that explains it.”

“Explains what?” You questioned.

“How such a handsome man would fall I love with you. He’s not complete. He IS on your ligue...”

And that was all it took. “You stop right there! First of all, him lacking an arm does not make him any less of a man or any less attractive. Second, he is one of the sweetest, nicest, bravest humans I know. And third of all, he is a veteran and lost his arm fighting for your country so you should show some respect!”

Your aunt looked at you perplexed. And blinked a bunch of times. “I didn’t mean to... I...”

“Aunt Linda, I didn’t—“

“—I’ll talk to your mother about this.” She said before turning around and leaving.

You and Bucky shared a look and started laughing at her offended frame as she was liked away. At first, you tried to hold it, but once she was far away enough the two of you were almost crying.

“That’s a character.”

“See why I was hiding?” You told him after taking a deep breath. Once the two of you finally cooled down, you noticed that you still had his glove on your hand. You looked at it and a free taking a deep breath you handed it to him. “I’m really sorry about that,” you said as you handed him the glove “but also thanks for stepping in and pretending to be my boyfriend. Although now the whole family is going to ask me about the mysterious James...”

“I’ll be happy to assist as your boyfriend whenever any other family member shows up,” He smiled.

“For what’s worth, I truly meant everything I said earlier. Your metal arm does not take away any of your worth Bucky,” you told him as you rubbed his flesh arm a little. There was nothing else you could do to comfort him, even knowing how delicate the subject was for him, especially it being originally made by hydra. “Anyway... did you really find a tree or were you just making that up?”

“I did!” He smiled. “Come!” He grabbed your hand to pull you through the made of trees towards the one you wanted. Once you got it, between the two of you you manage to load the tree on the truck and after a short drive stopped by a small Christmas market.

You walked along with Bucky through the beautiful Market but separated from each other when you stopped to look at some of the ornaments. You’d found a small shop that would vinyl cut whatever you wanted on a beautiful golden orb. “Hey (Y/N),” you heard as you stared at the machine from that small shop. You turned to find Bucky with a small bag in his hand. “I found the perfect ornament for you,” he said as he opened the bag and pulled a small crystal mermaid from it.

“She’s beautiful,” you said staring at it with awe. “How did you find her?”

“She was on a small store somewhere over there,” he said pointing to the right, trying to stop you from noticing he had maybe spent too much money on her because he couldn’t stop himself after seeing how perfectly fitting it would be.

“Thank you, Buck. I can’t believe you remembered I love mermaids so much...” you smiled. “Either way, I actually found something that would be perfect for you.”

“You did?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! just you wait,” you winked and walked towards the small shop you’d found and ordered a little special thing. They said it would take around 20 minutes so you went back to Bucky.

“Let’s get an ice-cream,” you said as you pulled Bucky to a small ice-cream shop and ordered a few cones.

“You have plum taste?” You asked as the small lady nodded. “Two balls of plum in one and the other chocolate and blueberry please,” you ordered with a smile.

They gave you your ice creams in just a few seconds. And you walked back to the earlier shop alongside Bucky, the ornament was ready. You paid for it and held it behind your hands to show Bucky with a surprise. “All right close your eyes.”

He did as told. And you placed the ornament on his right hand and gave it a small squeeze to indicate he could open it. He stated at it for a while. The golden ornament had a shield on it. Like Steve’s original shield but with silver and red in the center. The cold slopes through the cracks between his shield, making it look just like his new arm. “You don’t like it...” you said since he hadn’t said anything.

“Like it?” He asked in disbelieve “I love it!”

You finally let out the breath you were holding. The shopping time was finished and the two of you hoped back on the truck to drive back to the compound.

Once there, the two of you brought the tree down and place it in the center of the common room. “FRIDAY? Where are all the decorations for the tree you told me about?”

“The box is behind the counter,” Explained FRIDAY.

“Yes, it is!” Said Bucky while pulling a very big plastic box from behind the counter.

He brought the box next to the tree and the two of you started looking through the box. Finding small ornaments and guessing which one was chosen by who from the team.

The first thing you did was add all of the lights, you choose the colourful ones and started filling the tree with them. After you started placing all the different ornaments. Leaving the two new ones you had purchased for the end, just like FRIDAY had advised you too.

“It looks nice,” you said as you smiled to yourself feeling accomplished. The shiny tree looks as beautiful as ever, the lights bouncing around from one place to another.

“We still have these,” pointed Bucky out taking the ornaments that the two of you got at the market.

“You’re right!” You said as you carefully took the mermaid from his hand and stared at the tree for a place to put it in. After a few seconds, the two of you started moving but neither noticed until your hands collided. The two of you were trying to place the ornament in the same place.

“Are you imitating me?”

“No. It was just the empty branch,” he pointed “the no es empty branch.”

“Well yes, it is the emptiest spot,” you agreed “all right, this is what we’re going to do, I’ll place mine over here,” you pointed at one spot “and yours can be here,” you pointed at another one, right next to yours.

“Deal,” he said as he placed his ornament. You placed your small mermaid later and it appeared as if the mermaid was looking at Bucky’s shield. Just like in the real world, you thought to yourself. Little did you notice Bucky was the one staring at you right then and there.

“We still need to add the star,” you said getting the delicate Swarovski star from the small box, of course, Tony would have a Swarovski star.

“Oh I’m not touching that, I don’t want to break it,” he said stepping out. “Tony doesn’t have much tolerance for me anyway.”

“Don’t be silly, I can’t reach the top anyway. The tree is too tall.”

“I’m not touching it.”

“Bucky!”

“I’m not. But I can carry you,” he shrugged.

“That would be less stable than just placing it in the top,” you reasoned.

“I’ve made my mind.”

“FRIDAY, do we have a ladder?”

“No, but you could use that chair over there.”

Bucky went for the chair and brought it to you. Placing eight on the side of the tree. You tried to step on it “this is so unstable...”

“Don’t worry I’ll watch your back,” he said as he tried to keep the chair shady with his hands.

“This is ridiculous James, you could’ve just placed it without an issue.” You mumbled as you slowly placed the star on the top. But your shoelace caught onto the side of the chair and you tripped and fell.

Luckily for you, Bucky was paying attention and he quickly grabbed you from the waist to stop You from falling face-first on the floor, instead, you fell on top of him since your weight had grown the both of you on the floor.

First thing you did as soon as you gathered everything that was happening is that you removed your weight from his chest by sitting in his stomach with one leg on either side of his torso, “Can you breathe?” You asked placing your hands on his face to look for any signs of trauma.

He smiled when he noticed how concerned you were “yes I Can breathe doll, I’ve been thrown from higher placed bc way bigger men.”

“But it was a hard fall, and my weight. Could have pulled all the sir from your lungs.”

“I didn’t... no need to worry,” he smiled again.

You drew a relieved breath and smiled too. After that, you rolled off him and instead of standing up you laid on the floor next to him as well.

The tree stood majestic and tall in front of the two of you. “We did an amazing job,” you mumbled.

“It’s because we’re an amazing team,” he responded. A smile appeared on your face when you heard those words.

“We should decorate Christmas trees more often,” you giggled. “But next time you’re placing the start!”

“And miss the opportunity of having you on top of me again? No way!” He joked. The two of you laughed again.

“Thank you, Bucky!” You said then as you gave him a quick fast hug, the two of you still lying on the floor.

“What for?”

“You always make my days brighter,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He turned his whole body towards you, his steel-blue eyes staring directly into yours. “I could say the same thing, doll.”

Find more Bucky fluff over here 👈

Feedback is always appreciated ✨

#bucky x reader #bucky one shot #bucky x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #one shot #oneshot #imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #x reader #x you #x y/n #bucky x y/n #fanfic #captain america #CAWS #capitán America winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #winter soldier #capitán America civil war #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan

[lesbian-vmin]

Vmin vs. The World (A Shipping Analysis)

No one specifically asked for this analysis. It’s less about analyzing anything Vmin did or said, and more about analyzing how people pick and choose which moments to focus on and how to view those moments to fit their own narratives. And this is why I always say to view original sources for yourself (and why I try my best to link original sources to most of the moments that I talk about on my blog). Anyway, this is partially inspired by some asks that got sent to my blog, and partially inspired to posts and comments on videos/posts I’ve seen around the internet.

(Below the cut)

So first, let’s bring up some general points that shippers love when it come to their own ships.

Hand holding

One resting their head on the other’s shoulders

Looking at each other

Smiling at the other

Laughing because of something the other said or did

So much as mentioning the other’s name

Piggy back rides

Kisses, if they ever happen

So, let’s talk a little about each of these things, shall we?

So, I’m pretty sure that everything listed above, excluding the last point, is something that can be used to “back” whatever 🐶 or 🐯 ship you like the most. For 🐯, kisses can be used for every ship, pretty much, since basically all of the members kissed him in that one Army Zip thing. (x) I personally don’t think that’s a moment that can be used to “back” a ship because they all did it, and it was clearly scripted. Because...they all did it. Anyhow, I don’t make the rules on what can and can’t be used as “proof”, so do what you will with that moment.

Hand holding

So, let’s talk a little about hand holding, and how people use this as evidence that their ship is real. I am positive that you can find any and all ships of BTS holding hands at one point or another for whatever reason. People will take these moments to bring up reasons as to why they think it makes their ship “more real” or “more valid” than other ships. So. Let’s look at a list of examples that I don’t think holding hands is any sort of “proof” as to why certain ships can be real.

If one member is holding another member’s wrist/hand to drag him somewhere and show him something/do something with him, it’s nothing special. All members do this together.

If all the members are standing on stage, bowing at the end, it doesn’t really count. It’s pretty natural for performers to hold hands while bowing at the end of a performance. Every sort of performance group or club that I’ve been in has done this. It didn’t matter if it was a group that met regularly or a group that did one show together and parted ways after. We’d always hold hands and bow at the end of performances, so that means nothing. Also, if they’re holding hands with other members, how can it count as “proof” that your ship is real? And no, they might not all seven be holding hands every time they bow at the end, but still. Holding hands and bowing at the end doesn’t mean anything romantic is going on. They’re performers. That’s what they do. Regardless of how “real” you see BTS’s bond, all performers do this. So it really doesn’t mean anything.

Because it’s scripted. Take 🐯 and 🐱 in every Run episode where they held hands because they were disagreeing or because they lost a game in which they were partners. Moments like that (no matter how soft I am for 🐯/🐱) don’t really count as moments that prove them to be the “real” ship. Another example of this kind of scripted hand holding would be the episode in which they were playing...badminton? and they had their hands tied together. All the members held hands with each person they were paired with because it made the game easier for them if they were holding hands. Instead of just being tied together at first, like 🐱 and 🦄 did before the director told them they could hold hands. (x)

If they are on a team, them holding hands while “wishing” something good would happen for them (such as waiting to hear the results on if they won or not) doesn’t really count either. Because I think this kind of “hopeful” hand holding is pretty common for people, and I’ve seen several pairs of members do this, too.

Moments that would count as...I don’t wanna say “proof” but a reason to question a little more or look further, would be if they are casually holding hands while walking. I don’t mean so much in the way that 🦄 and 🐰 (despite the fact that I think they have real potential...I’m very critical of moments that give me “reason” to believe something) were in BV when 🐯 said (probably jokingly...everyone acts like his words here actually was him meaning something, but I really don’t think he was serious in this moment....I think he was just playing along the same way 🦄 and 🐰 seemed to be playful) that it was weird for two men to hold hands. It seemed to me that 🦄 and 🐰 were just playing around while holding hands rather than just freely and casually holding hands in an intimate/romantic “i love you and want to hold your hand” kind of way.

An example would be (focusing on vmin because this is a vmin blog) 🐶 and 🐯 holding hands while walking (in the airport?) but waiting until they were pretty well out of the way of the camera (and in a crowd) to do so. It’s not “proof” that they are real, but there’s no reason to mark this off the list of things that make you wonder. Because (1) they weren’t on a show. There may have been a camera, but like I said, they waited until they were well away from the camera before holding hands. (2) It didn’t look like they were just being silly, like the 🦄 and 🐰 moment mentioned above. (3) It couldn’t have been fan service since it wasn’t on stage or during an event. And again, they waited until they were well out of the way of the camera and in a crowd to even hold hands. (4) This seemed pretty casual and natural for them. And it seemed to me like Jimin was grabbing Taehyung’s hand to keep him close because they were in a crowd. Which very well could be friendly, but there’s no reason it couldn’t be romantic either. Because I think it’d be pretty natural for someone to want to keep their friend or boyfriend close to them while walking through a crowd, and holding hands is a solid way to do that.

I’m not saying that 🐶 and 🐯 don’t have moments of holding hands with other members that can be taken the same way. I’m just choosing a vmin moment specifically because (1) this is a vmin blog and (2) it’s the most natural moment I’ve seen of any of the members holding another members hand in this way. Again, that’s not to say a moment like this doesn’t exist with 🐶 or 🐯 and some other member. And, if a moment like that between them and another member does arise, then it’s something worth considering for that specific pair, too.

One resting their head on the other’s shoulder

So, I think it’s pretty safe to assume that this is something that all the BTS members do pretty naturally. And, this seems to be a natural thing for Korean’s in general. All of my female Korean friends would rest their head on my shoulder when we were just lounging around or if we were waiting in line for something. They’re often more clingy and cuddly than Westerners are, so this is just about understanding the cultural difference. It’s not a BTS thing. It really is a Korean thing. And I specified my female Korean friends because my male Korean friends wouldn’t act the same way toward me. I’d often see the male Koreans doing the same to each other, but that type of skin ship seemed reserved for same-sex friends. If a male and female were caught acting in such a way, the others seemed to assume that they were dating.

So. Yes. It’s possible that this type of skin ship can happen between boyfriends, but people often ask about this type of thing in regards to jealousy. If this is something that’s common to do with same-sex friends, then I don’t see why a boyfriend would be jealous of his own boyfriend doing it with other male friends. That’d be like an s/o getting jealous of their own s/o texting their friend “good morning” every day.

My friends from England also told me that “xx” (kisses) are pretty common to send in text messages to friends in England. I’m sure I have readers from England, so if this isn’t true for you or your country culture in general let me know. Because I’m aware that a few people don’t speak for a whole country. Anyhow, one of my English friends were actually gay and in a relationship with a girl. Yet she still sent kisses in her texts to friends, and her girlfriend wasn’t jealous about it.

So, basically, resting one’s head on someone’s shoulder is a cultural thing, and isn’t really solid “proof” of anything going on between two specific members. Especially considering they’re all males, and that same-sex type of affection is common for Korean people. Which is probably why you can find at least one example of any member resting his head on another member’s shoulder. It works for every ship.

Looking at each other

Now, this one is a little bit of a tricky topic. Because looks very well can be intimate, but they’re typically not? It’s not uncommon for humans (social creatures) to look at each other. It seems that shippers will take every single moment in which their ship looks at each other as “evidence” that they are real. Even if other members are looking at one of them (probably because one of them is talking). They’ll edit and cut it and make the focus on that ship to fit their narrative.

I think looks very well can be a reason to look closer at any ship. But these are the things I take into consideration when analyzing the looks that someone gives. I’m going to be using 🐶 and 🐯 (speaking theoretically and not about specific moments) for these examples. Because, again. Vmin blog. And I think using specifics is better than saying “this member” and “that member” because it gets a little twisted around without using names.

If 🐶 is looking at 🐯 (or the other way around) while he is talking, that moment can’t really mean much. Because it’s pretty natural to look at the person who is talking. And one could make an argument about the expression in the person’s eyes, but I’ve seen both 🐯 and 🐶 (and many of the members) look at each other (or any other member) with complete and total admiration. I mean. Just look at the way 🐱 looks at 🐯 sometimes. They’re cute moments worth pointing out, sure. But not really “proof” considering how much all of BTS seems to admire each other and give each other the “obviously in love” kind of look.

If 🐯 is doing something silly that grabs 🐶’s attention (or the other way around), this might be a cute moment worth pointing out, but it’s not really a “reason” I’d look closer at Vmin (or any other ship for the members involved). Because it’s pretty natural to look at someone who is doing something out of the ordinary or something that stands out. While I’m at work, I often get caught staring at and smiling fondly at one of my analysts who are in their own little world, jamming out. We all do it.

When they are looking at each other because they are talking to each other. Again, a pretty natural thing. Also pretty natural to look at someone if you are talking about them, so these moments won’t go under much analysis when they do come up.

When they are looking at each other while answering a question or talking to the camera....it’s not usually something that would give me reason to look closer and analyze further. But it’s something that gets put on a list of cute moments that are worth noting, without actually being “proof.” The reason I don’t want to call this “proof” is because it’s pretty natural to look at a person you feel comfortable with while talking. My sister, who is very anxious, does this to me a lot. When she’s talking to other people, she’ll often look at me while talking to someone else she’s not so comfortable with. When I interviewed for my position, I focused more on my direct supervisor rather than the supervisor above her because I’m more comfortable with my direct supervisor. I see her more often and talk with her more often, so answering interview questions while focusing on her was less intimidating than focusing on her supervisor. By now, BTS are pretty comfortable talking to cameras and to the fans, so it’s cute when they look at each other instead of the camera when talking. But it’s still not something that would seem “suspicious” to me.

The looks that draw up the most questions for me, and that I look into the furthest, is when they are looking at each other for no apparent reason. Maybe 🐶 will be looking at 🐯 while 🦊 is talking, and 🐯 might be paying no attention to 🐶. 🐯 also might not be doing anything to grab 🐶’s attention other than just sitting there, existing. So, why is 🐶 looking at 🐯? These are the moments that bring up the most questions, although they may not necessarily be “proof” either. They’re just the ones that make me wonder the most what can possibly be going through their minds.

🐯 staring at 🐶 and looking away when 🐶 looks back doesn’t really say anything either. (This goes for all the members and ships). Staring at someone doesn’t mean you are in love with them. If that were the case, I know a lot of people who are in love with a hundred different people, their own brothers/sisters/children included. It’s a cute moment, sure. But I don’t think it hints at anything. Sometimes you might just pick a person to focus your attention on. Often we don’t realize we’re staring at someone until we meet their eyes, and that’s why we look away. It doesn’t really hint at anything.

All the members have moments where they’re looking at each other for some reason or another. And I think about what those moments can mean when they’re brought up, but looks hardly say anything. People who study human behavior (especially amateurs in the field) may disagree because human behavior says something. And it does. I know. But honestly, humans aren’t an exact science. It’s simply not possible to be 100% accurate about someone the way they show you in TV shows like Criminal Minds.

Human behavior is very complex, and I don’t think there’s a person in the world who understands it on a level of never questioning why people do the things they do because they just know. Anyone who claims that knowledge is just trying to justify their own narratives. Because humans aren’t that simple. They’re just not. And you especially can’t read that much into the lives of seven boys whom you don’t even personally know. Only get content they choose to share with you from a margin of their work lives, and see mostly their interactions with each other. Yeah. We get to see how BTS interacts with fans and other artists on occasion, but these aren’t normally people they’re as familiar with as they are with each other. We don’t get to see how they interact with other people they are that close with, so we can really only compare based on a margin of their relationship. Anyone who claims to be ‘all knowing’ about human behavior to be able to judge something based on the fraction about them that we know is full of shit.

Smiling at the other

Step one. Google “Fond smile”

I rest my case.

Anyway, are we really so desperate to prove that a ship is real that we can’t even let someone smile at a person without claiming that they are in love with them? This goes right along with the “obviously in love” look that I mentioned before. All of BTS really adore and admire each other, and you can see that in the way they look at each other and smile with all the love and affection the world can give.

Laughing because of something the other said or did

Yeah, it might be the case that laughing at everything a person does is a clear sign of affection. But I also know that laughter if a sign of happiness. I laugh and giggle at a lot more things when I’m in a particularly good mood, and this is why people often think that laughter is a sign of being in love. Because that feeling of being in love is ONE of the things that put people in a good mood and make them all giddy and happy.

Also. People are allowed to find someone funny without being in love with them. 🐶 can laugh at everything 🐰 does, and 🐶 / 🐰 shippers will bring that in as evidence. Even if, in the same video, 🐶 is particularly giddy and laughing at other things. (They’ll highlight the moments when he was laughing at 🐰 specifically) Or even if, in the same video, 🦄 is laughing at everything 🐰 does. Because he does. 🦄 thinks 🐰 is the funniest fucking shit in the world, and its downright adorable, and also ignored because he’s not 🐶. You know what else is ignored by these shippers? When 🐶 (maybe in the same or maybe in a different video) is laughing at everything 🦄 does. Or 🐯 does. Or 🐱 does. Because it doesn’t fit their narrative of 🐶 / 🐰. Let’s not forget that 🐶 and 🦄 tend to be the members who are the easiest to get to laugh. They are so full of laughter and happiness and it’s downright precious.

So much as mentioning the other’s name

Times in which I think it’s cute for them to mention each other is when the one being mentioned isn’t in the room at all, and they seem to bring them up just because they want to. Not for any particular reason (such as fans asking about them or such).

This is one of those things that can be used at reasons to look closer sometimes, but just downright ridiculous to use as shipping material other time. Most of the time, I think it’s a “cute thing worth noting” but nothing meaningful to the point of proving romance between two of the members.

Not much to be said here. It’s not weird for people to talk about those they know. And the members will often talk about each other to us because they know we know the other members. And they’re less likely to talk about people from their personal lives. So, yeah. When 🐯 or 🐶 bring each other up in lives a lot, it’s worth noting. But it doesn’t prove anything. Because, in real life, they might have some s/o they talk about way more than they talk about each other.

And me saying that doesn’t nullify the fact that I see potential for romantic vmin. It’s just me being aware of the fact that we only know a fraction of what goes on in their life. And a lot of it is what they WANT us to see.

Piggy back rides

🐶 / 🐰 shippers use this as evidence for their ship a lot, even though there are plenty of moments where 🐶 piggybacks on 🐯 and the other way around. 🐶 / 🐰 also have moments where 🐰 is holding 🐶 in bridal style. And their shippers use it as proof for their ship. Even though 🐶 and 🐯 also have moments like that.

Regardless of the ship, these are cute moments. But since it’s a thing that happens between different pairings, it can’t really count as evidence for a single pair. At least not the simple act of the piggy back itself.

Kisses, if they ever happen

When it comes to kisses, vmin has any ship beat, i think. Because 🐶 has kissed 🐯 that one time in BV that I bring up a lot. And it wasn’t scripted. It wasn’t fan service. It was a natural moment of him comforting his friend. It may not be ‘proof’, but it’s certainly only something I’ve ever seen vmin do.

There was a 🐯 / 🦄 punishment kiss, where they actually kissed on the lips, way back in their debut days. (Rookie King show). There was the Army zip where all the members kiss 🐯. And 🦄 seems to tease the maknae line a lot by kissing (or pretending to kiss) them.

To this date, the only “real” kiss that I’ve seen between any members of BTS is the one with 🐶 kissing 🐯 on the head in BV. If I ever find any moments of any other members kissing in such a way, then it will be considered. But when it comes to kisses, specifically, I think Vmin kind of has the key.

****

And now. Let’s talk about painting pictures and writing narratives.

This is going to be quite short because I think you’ll get the idea with this one quick thought on how people twist things the way they want to see it for how it suits them. But I’m going to talk about it some.

🦉: *gives Vmin “the look”*

Everyone: Oh, he’s third wheeling. He’s like “really guys? In front of me?” He’s warning them to watch how they act. Etc. etc. (because v / mon and min / joon aren’t popular ships)

🐰: *gives Vmin “the look”*

Everyone: He’s jealous. (because it fits t/k or j/k narrative)

And this is why I really consider all angles of things. If we look at 🦉 or 🐰 or 🐱 or 🦄 or 🦊 giving Vmin “the look” then the common denominator is Vmin. I think all the members, but the Hyungs especially, try to tone down vmin specifically.

It’s like a lot of moments when I see 🐯 or 🐶 being jealous. They seem to get jealous when the other has a moment with another member or another person in general. And the common denominator will be 🐯 or 🐶. But shippers of a specific ship will say look 🐯 was jealous of 🐶 because of this moment with 🐰 and 🐯 wants to be with 🐰.

I’m not saying that my observations can’t be the same kind of biased. Because it’s very well possible that other pairs get “the look”, too. And it’s possible that 🐯 might show jealousy when 🦉 has a moment with someone such a 🦄. I’m not so attuned to those things, so it’s really possible that I’m just not observing it.

But I really do try to pay attention to all angles and see things from different perspectives. I often pay attention to common denominators and patterns. Because I’m an analyst. It’s literally my daily job to do so. But that doesn’t mean I’m right. It’s why I welcome evidence from other perspectives. Because I have to challenge my views and look at things differently. It’s how I keep from getting “too invested” or delusional about something.

This post isn’t about me trying to prove that my point of view is the right point of view or the best point of view. It’s about me trying to point out how people take the smallest things in regards to their ship to prove they’re real.

I admit that I may be a little biased toward Vmin, but I’m open to every ship and arguments as to why Vmin might not be real.

The point in this post is also to talk a little about why I refer to some moments as “nothing” or “fan service” even when it’s a vmin moment. Because this is something I’ve been asked about (to the point of people accusing me of being a secret anti-vmin) since I sometimes refer to their moments as “fan service” because sometimes it is. And I’m aware of that. But I’ve also analyzed moments that have real potential, while also being obvious fan service moments (such as the Vmin mama rose moment).

Basically, I hope this helps you understand better how I make my analyses and the things I focus on. And I also hope it helps you be more critical of what you perceive from what other people (myself included) say. Always, always be critical of any information you are given.

If I’m going to build a case for my reason to question something, I’m going to critically analyze anything that comes my way to build a strong case. Not use every tiny grain of salt I can to build a weak case.

Anyway. Sorry for this slightly unprompted analysis that hardly had anything to do with vmin specifically, but this is just something I wanted to talk about. Because of a mix of asks that have been sent to my box recently. And, like I said in the beginning, posts and responses I’ve seen around.

This might seem off topic to you, but it’s on topic for me. If you understand my point behind adding this in here, you’ll understand how it’s on topic.

One of my favorite examples of biased analysis is the idea of needing glasses and sitting close to the TV.

So, we know pretty well that sitting close to the TV won’t cause you to need glasses necessarily. The light may straight your eyes and make them tired and give you headaches, but it wasn’t damage them to the point of needing glasses. That’s a myth. Why did that myth come around? Because there were children sitting closer to the TV because they had to since they couldn’t see. Rather than saying they needed glasses because they were sitting too close to the TV. The actual case is that they were sitting too close to the tv because they needed glasses. It’s why not every child who sits too close to the TV ends up needing glasses. Because that’s not what caused the need for the glasses.

And this relates to reasons behind shipping (and basically any other analyses you can make) because it’s related to bias research.

Rather than saying “why do these children sit close to the tv” the question was “why do these children need glasses?” Rather than researching and collecting data on children sitting close to the TV, they were collecting data on children who needed glasses. Does that make sense? The information would have been more useful if they were looking from both perspectives.

Another example is “you’re more likely to die from a vending machine than a spider bite.”

Who’s more likely to die from a vending machine than a spider bite? Not me. I don’t beat the crap out of vending machines or go near them regularly. However, I do live in an area with a lot of poisonous spiders. Just because there are more vending machine related deaths per year than spider bite related deaths doesn’t mean that every individual is more likely to die from a vending machine.

It may be true, however, that if you are crushed by a vending machine you are more likely to die from that than a spider bite is likely to kill you.

When you work in data science and analysis, you learn to be critical of information like this. And I think it’s a useful thought process for people to have in general. Especially in a world where lies spread faster than the truth. We have to be critical of information that is given to us.

#thoughts #shipping analysis #needs sources

[ficsilike-reblogged]

What’s in a Name?

A/N: This is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever written in my entire life. But it’s soft. Because Marcus Pike is soft and deserves all the love. Granted, I’ve only watched The Mentalist all the way through once, so...do with that what you will. 

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: PG for mention of guns??? I just want to be on the safe side. Idiots in love. Falling in love with someone and not knowing their name. Cliche use of a Quote from Romeo + Juliet.

Word Count: 3.3k 

Summary: The five times Marcus Pike tries to learn your name and the one time he actually does.

Pike was unlucky in love. He knew it. He had started to accept it when things fell apart with Lisbon. His friends and fellow agents, the assholes, actually took pity on him and said he’d find the right person eventually. He just didn’t anticipate having to meet her over and over again.

... that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet... (Romeo + Juliet)

Sometimes, every once in a while, he actually hated his job. Sure, he got to go undercover, stop criminals, right some wrongs, and be called ‘agent’ on top of it. But, right now, listening to some sycophant rant and rave about the “superiority of Cubism over Dadaism,” he wanted to switch careers. There was supposed to be a sale of a stolen Cézanne happening at this gallery in Los Angeles and Pike had suspected the guy with the too-tight three piece suit and bad transatlantic accent was the ring-leader of the whole theft and re-sale. He just needed to not spork his eyes out until he saw money pass hands from the agent he’d sent in to pose as the buyer and the thief-turned-art-asshole. He thought it would only take an hour or two, busts like this usually did—but this guy loved the sound of his own voice so much that he had been going on a tangent about 20th century art movements for nearly four hours now and had somehow gathered a bit of an audience, too, debating with others, and the like. It was exhausting just listening to him.

“If you give me ten dollars, I’ll spill some red wine on his shirt and he’ll be forced to leave.”

Marcus looked to the left at the sudden voice and found a woman pretending to look at the piece in front of him, just like he had been doing. She was pretty, dressed in a high-end dress and sky-high, red-bottom heels, and looked every bit the part of an old money socialite. “Ten dollars?”

“I’d do it for free, but I need to receive some sort of incentive so I’m not just doing it out of spite. I heard that’s bad karma.” She hid her smirk behind the lip of her champagne flute.

“I’ve heard spite is a fantastic motivator.”

She hummed and squinted at the painting as if she cared. Maybe she did. “This is an awful piece of work. Truly, one of the worst I’ve ever seen.”

The man behind them continued to talk just as a waiter passed by with a platter full of red wine and she skillfully plucked one from him without missing a beat. She finished her champagne and handed Pike her empty flute. His eyebrows raised as she smiled at him.

“I’m Marcus.” He held out a hand for her to take. She shook it with a smile but didn’t give her name in return. She winked and walked away—right toward the mark.

And yes, she dumped red wine all over him.

There was a collective gasp and he watched the scene with a muted sort of fascination as she then managed to make the art thief smile with some joke she must have said and then he walked away to clean up. The crowd dispersed. The other agent was able to snag the thief and make the exchange and handcuffs were placed on his wrists all within a couple of minutes.  

Maybe he should have actually paid her the ten dollars. She really did just speed everything up.

But, when he looked around to find her, she was gone. 

                                                            **

The second time he met her was at an art auction in D.C. There was no sting. No operation. The Art Squad had recently helped the auction’s sponsor recover a priceless Van Gogh piece and they had insisted the entire Squad come to the black tie dinner and auction, foregoing the 1000-dollar-charge-per-plate the ticket usually cost. The food was good. The wine and champagne was obviously expensive and Pike was sure he’d see some of the art that was being auctioned off in his case files in the next few years. That was just the way of the world. He looked around at the displays and glanced at the sheets where people had written down their bids. Some people were being generous—most others were being cheap. 

He slowed to a stop in front of a small Dalí and then down at the auction sheet. It was currently up to only a few hundred dollars. He wouldn’t win, he was sure, but he could pretend to participate in this ridiculous auction.

“I didn’t take you for a Dalí fan.” Her voice was still smooth and he knew, instinctively, that she was smiling before he even turned to look at her. She was draped in sky blue silk and pearls, reminding him of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus.

“I think he’s iconic, to be sure.”

She sidled up to him and looked at the small painting. “Thinking about bidding? It looks like everyone else is besotted with that original Warhol.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder to reference the crowd steadily growing on the other side of the ballroom.

But all he could focus on was the smell was her perfume. Expensive and floral, it seemed to fit her perfectly.

Manicured fingers handed him a Mont Blanc pen from the depths of her designer bag. “Best of luck, Agent Pike.”

As she walked away, he realized she knew his last name now—somehow—and he still didn’t know hers.

Pike tried to find her again in the mess of rich people, to ask her name and how she knew of his ‘agent’ status and last name. But all he managed to do was catch a glimpse of blue silk as she exited the venue.

“Do you know her?” A tired-looking man asked as he walked to Pike’s side. “She left a large donation and my boss will kill me if we don’t have a name to write in our next list of donors.”

“I…I don’t actually. Did she bid on anything? Maybe we could get her name that way.”

And for the next fifteen minutes or so, he filtered through the crowd, trying to ask inconspicuously about his Venus and if she had bid on anything. And, when he finally learned that she had bid on an Alphonse Mucha sketch. And he almost felt lucky. Almost!

Because, as he made his way over to where everyone was pointing, he saw only two scribbles on the sheet. Surely he could discern which one of the names was hers. 

One was Richard…

And the other one was just a scribble of blue ink, smudged beyond legibility.

                                                         **

(A few weeks later, he was delivered a package at his office. Inside was the Dalí he had bid on. On a slip of paper was a smudged smiley face and the word: Enjoy!)

                                                        **

The third time he met her was decidedly less glamorous. The Art Squad had been trailing a group of thieves across the East Coast when they finally caught up to them in Boston. Pike had hoped they’d be able to catch them in the act and be done with it.

Instead, what they found when they stormed into the art museum, was the thieves holding several hostages. And, of course with his luck, she was among them.

Her hands were behind her head and she was on her knees as one of the thieves pointed a gun to the back of her head. Boredom was, surprisingly, coloring her face but she smiled when she caught sight of Pike. “Hi, Marcus.”

“Hi,” he said in return, fighting a smile of his own.

The whole thing was over in just over an hour and the hostages were released and the thieves were carted off in the back of a police van.

And maybe now he’d finally learn her name.

He was the lead agent on the case so he had to answer a million and one questions from other agents, from outside law enforcement, from the press. And, belatedly, he watched his least favorite agent, Rhett Brown, approach his unnamed Venus. The agent was fine when given a gun and told to shoot—but how he’d managed to wind up on the Art Squad was a mystery. He’d lost or misfiled more paperwork than anyone else Pike had encountered put together.

Pike knew he needed to finish all of this nonsense—and really, he shouldn’t call it nonsense, this was important—if he wanted to even have a chance to get her name. But the local police asked a lot of questions (they were doing their job, he couldn’t blame them) and then the press conference dragged on (again, they were just doing their jobs). And by the time he finished, he jogged back to where the former hostages had been held as they were being questioned.

And, of course, she was gone.

Pike pulled Rhett aside and asked for his notes.

Rhett nodded and stuck his hand into his suit pocket and then froze. “Oh no.” He quickly patted down his other pockets and shouted at another agent, “have you seen my notepad, man?”

                                                            **

Pike was tired when he met her for the fourth time. 

The deposition had lasted longer than he anticipated, stretching long into the night. The case was a strange one, involving inheritances, forged wills, and a “disappeared” Jackson Pollock that “reappeared” across the country. The hotel was nice, however, and he slumped into a stool at the hotel’s upscale bar and ordered a pale ale.

It was set in front of him quickly and he drained half of it without much fanfare.

“I always thought you looked more like a whiskey kind of guy.” 

He nearly spat out his drink. 

She slid into the stool next to him and ordered a top shelf cognac. Her lips were painted a vibrant shade of red and left a mark against the glass as she took a sip of the amber liquid. “Long day?”

“You could say that. You?”

She nodded with a small smile. “What’re you doing in New York? More FBI business?”

“Something like that.” He took another drink of his beer and she watched him over the edge of her own glass. “How’d you know I was in the FBI?”

“We have friends in common. I know Charlie—you helped him get back his precious Van Gogh.”

“Ah, Charlie.” He nodded in understanding.

“Yes, he went on and on about the FBI agent who saved his marriage—imagine that, an entire marriage hanging on the edge of one painting.” Despite cognac being meant for sipping, she had already nearly drained her glass. “Imagine my surprise when it was you—the man from the gallery opening who basically gave me full permission to dump wine on a pompous asshole.” She watched him laugh as she took another sip of the dark amber liquid. “Charlie pointed you out when you came to the auction. The man can hardly remember his children’s names but he remembers yours.” She smiled and he could have sworn he’d never seen anyone so beautiful. “But I like the um…” she gestured at his chin and then placed her finger beneath her nose in a childish imitation of a mustache. “It’s a good look.”

He laughed—she was good at making him laugh. “I was undercover.”

“Oh?” It came out with another laugh. “Aren’t you mysterious?”

“I’m mysterious? You know my name and my job—and that I think Dalí is iconic. I know nothing about you.”

“What is there to know? I procure art for people who have too much money. I spend more time on planes or in hotels than I do in my little apartment in New Orleans. I like Humphrey Bogart movies and a good blanket.” She smiled before polishing off the last dredges of her drink. “See? Now you know more about me than I do about you. And it is all far less interesting.”

His heart had lodged itself higher and higher into his throat as each word passed her lips. “No…I-I think you’re really interesting and beautiful and I…I would love to know more.”

She was embarrassed, he could tell, but she still smiled. Her mouth opened to say something else and-

-a bellhop stepped to her side. “Your bags have been loaded into the car, ma’am.”

She turned and thanked him, pressing a few bills into his hand before she stood and grabbed her purse. She put a few more bills—far more than her drink could have possibly cost—onto the bar top and signaled to the bartender that she was paying for both their drinks before he could even think to stop her. “Thanks for the company.”

“Yeah. Of course.” He was in a bit of a daze as she leaned down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. The familiar scent of her expensive perfume touched his nose as she pulled back.

“I’ll see you around, Agent Pike. But really,” she once again mimed the mustache, “it’s a good look.”

He murmured his goodbye, head still pleasantly swimming, and watched her walk away.

It took him a full five minutes to realize he still didn’t know her name.

                                                     **

The fifth time he met her, he’d been stuck at O’Hare International Airport for five hours. Five hours in the worst airport known to mankind. His flight back to DC had been delayed and then delayed some more and then delayed some more. He’d only been in Chicago for a few days to help lead some training to the local arm of the Bureau. Nothing exciting. And now he was stuck waffling between two equally awful airport restaurants for dinner while he continued to wait.

“Hey stranger.”

He turned to see her walking toward him, a designer carryon being wheeled behind her scuffed sneakers. Her hair was up in a lop-sided bun and she had traded her dress for a pair of jeans and an oversized band t-shirt. And why was his mouth filling with saliva? She threw her arms around him in a hug that he quickly reciprocated, squeezing her around the middle as she laughed lightly in his ear. “It’s good to see you. I see you kept the facial hair.”

He laughed and scrubbed a hand over his patchy beard and mustache. “Yeah, I guess I did.” Pike cleared his throat, trying to not sound so smitten. “Where’re you heading now?”

“Home, thankfully. I’ve been go-go-go since I saw you last. It seems everyone wants to give works of art as presents this year. I’m kind of scared what Christmas is going to mean.”

He smiled, liking to know about her life, how she felt. “Been anywhere exciting?”

“Paris and Milan lose their charm after a while. But I finally got to go to Casablanca.” There was a near twinkle in her eye now. “I felt like I should’ve been running around in a trench and fedora, chain-smoking. God knows how many times I muttered ‘here’s lookin’ at you kid’ to myself like a loon.” She shook her head as she bit her lip. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m jetlagged.”

“It’s okay, really. I…I like it.”

She shoved at his shoulder with another laugh. “Careful. You’ll make me fall in love with you.”

“Would that be so bad?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them—something he usually did when he let his stupid, romantic heart take the lead.

She tilted her head as she looked at him with an almost shy smile playing on her lips. “No. No, I don’t think that’d be bad at all.” They looked at each other, each fighting a smile and stupid fluttering of their hearts for the near-stranger in front of them. She broke the little daydream by clearing her throat and glancing away for a moment. “And you? Been anywhere exciting?”

“Just Chicago. Had to lead some training. My flight’s been delayed for a couple hours. Hopefully, I’ll be out of here before midnight.”

“Well, if you’re looking for a good place to eat in this hellscape, I’d recommend the restaurant near C26. I’ve yet to get food poisoning from them—and the food’s pretty good, too.”

“You want to join me?” He asked, something optimistic blooming in his chest.

But her smile fell. “I wish I could. But my flight starts boarding soon.”

As if on cue, there was an announcement over the intercom. “Hello passengers and welcome to Flight 306 to New Orleans. Right now, we will start boarding with our group one passengers and active duty military in uniform.” 

“That’s me,” she said with a sigh. “But it was good to see you, Marcus.” She reached out and squeezed his hand.

He squeezed her hand for a moment, keeping her still. “You know, I still don’t know your name.”

She paused and then laughed, a full-belly laugh that quickly had him laughing, too. “It’s-”

A passenger cart beeped as it zoomed by, carrying a few elderly women.

“Group one, you’re free to board. Group one,” the announcement seemed to echo in the terminal, overly loud on the old speakers.

He swore he saw her lips move. He did!

But then she was squeezing his fingers again and walking away.

                                                     **

The cherry blossoms were in bloom. Aside from the terrible crowds they brought and the overall mugginess that came with the season, it was one of the things he liked about living in DC. He was sitting on a bench and watching the wind blow through the trees, rustling the pink and white petals gently. His lunchbreak was ending soon and he’d have to get back to the office. The other agents had caught on about his “mysterious lady friend” when he’d finally arrived back from Chicago and had been ribbing him about it ever since. (“How did you not get her name already, Pike?!” A question for the ages.) He crumpled the wrapper from his sandwich and tossed it in the nearest bin, preparing to leave the park.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, just for a moment.

But when he opened them, she was standing in front of him like something out of his daydreams. She smiled at him before helping herself to the space beside him on the bench. “I was told you like this bench when the blossoms are in bloom.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Your fellow agents are very chatty, you know.”

“You came looking for me?”

“’Course. I was in town. The auction I need to attend isn’t until tonight and…yeah,” she trailed off, embarrassment coloring her tone as she looked away from him for a moment. “Yeah, I thought I’d see you.”

His smile was so big he was sure it was going to break his face. “I’m glad you did.” He reached out and curled his fingers around hers as they rested on the bench beside her legs.

Her smile was shy but she squeezed his fingers in return as she kept looking out over the cherry blossom trees. “It’s pretty here. I’d love to wake up and just see this.” She waved her free hand toward the blossoms.

“Well, it happens every year. You can come back.” Or you could stay, his traitorous, lovesick heart whispered. But no, he wouldn’t say that. No yet, at least. He could take this slow.

But then she kissed him, quick and soft—he nearly missed it. And she was quickly leaning back against the bench, trying to school her features into indifference.

“What is your name?” He asked, question bursting forward.

She guffawed and pulled her hand back with an exaggerated flourish, fighting another smile. “I told you at the airport!”

“There-there was a transport honking and-and an intercom and then you left-!”

She cupped his cheek in her hand and the words died in his throat. She smiled again, fighting a laugh, and whispered her name.

He whispered it back, rolling the letters across his tongue carefully, pressing it into his mind to keep and hold.

He liked her name.

Part Two

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike imagine

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Winter Break

Summary: Yugyeom and you stay at Hogwarts for Winter Break. 

Oneshot

Word Count: 1,967

Yugyeom X Reader

Requested: Hi~~ would it be possible to request #25 for the 25 Days of Winter with Yugyeom? I was a bit late for the Hogsmeade promt, but I was wondering how would it be to spend Christmas at Hogwarts? I hope your day was amazing 💜💜💜

Prompt: 25. Make your own prompt!

The ceiling in the great hall is covered in candles and snow. Almost as if you were to reach up, you could taste a freshly fallen snowflake. As the days draw closer to winter break, the more excitement builds off the walls. Everyone is itching to leave the castle and be with their families. Exiting the castle and almost everyone is throwing a snowball at someone else. Which would lead to me spotting one of my seven friends and hitting them in the back of their head. The little shiver as they turn back around with a cold stare. Wondering who dared to throw a snowball at them. I wave, and it turns one snowball thrown into a whole snowball fight. Professors are nowhere near safe, although Hagrid is always one to join in on the games. 

Once we are all tuckered out, we head over to Care of Magical Creatures. Three more days and more than eighty percent of the students will be at home. Usually, I would be joining in that percentage alas, I’m having my first Christmas at Hogwarts. Hagrid beckons all of us to follow him to the lake. “Before we leave for home, I want to show you all what Hippocampuses do for the winter.” I catch up to Yugyeom and Bambam, and the three of us walk at the back of the crowd. “So, (Y/n), where are you going for winter break?” I shrug, “I’m staying here,...” Bambam pouts, “Aww,... I was hoping to visit you over the break.” I pout back, and Yugyeom gleams over at me, “So am I!” I grin and let out an excited ‘yes’. 

I’ve been friends with Jaebeom, Mark, Jackson, Jinyoung, Youngjae, Bambam, and Yugyeom for six years now. While Mark and Jaebeom have graduated, we all remain friends. But, with Yugyeom, I don’t feel friendly emotions, I feel the type where your heart picks up when they walk into the room. When he laughs, my whole day becomes brighter when he's sad, I’m sad. In the beginning, I denied that I had any feelings for him because it was so much easier, seeing him as a friend. My heart thought differently and knowing that everyone in the group is heading home. Except for him and I, has my heart going into overdrive, I’m excited but terrified. 

“Aw you guys are no fun,...” I laugh, “Bambam, if you want you could write to your mother and tell her you're staying here.” He shakes his head, “You know she would have my head after she already planned to have me over.” I laugh, “She is such a sweet woman though,...” He scoffs, “Yeah, uh-huh.” Yugyeom shakes his head and sticks his tongue out at Bambam, “We get to stay here, sucker!” I laugh and join in on his antics, and Bambam places his hand over his heart. “How can a Hufflepuff be so mean?” Yugyeom shrugs, “You bring the best out of us, Bambam.” Bambam scoffs, “I am a Gryffindor, I would do nothing of the sort.” He lifts his head up, walking away from us just to run into a tree. Yugyeom and I crack up and high five, “Don’t worry, I’m okay. THANK YOU for asking.” Bambam glaring at us, and we mimic him, “THANK YOU for asking! You’re welcome!” 

We reach the bottom of the hill to see Hagrid showing us the Hippocampuses that lay swimming under the ice. “You see, the water underneath is quite warm. The ice is protecting the creatures lying within. A Ravenclaw lets out, “Does that include the Giant Squid?” Hagrid sighs, ready for a break, “He lies there, but he rarely comes out of his dwelling.” A few kids snicker, and after everyone sees the reds and blues of the Hippocampuses he leads us back to his house. “Alright, class dismissed.” 

--

The next weekend, Yugyeom and I watch our four friends leave for home. Bambam promised to write us a letter. From seven to five and now down to two. When they leave, Yugyeom looks over at me and asks, “Wanna make snow angels with me?” I smile, “Why not?” He grabs my arm, and we run to the courtyard. He drags me down with him, and I can’t help but laugh. Swinging our arms back and forth, we make our angels perfect. I do my best to get up and not ruin my angel. Yugyeom follows suit and looks at our angels, and says, “They’re missing something.” I raise my brows, and he draws little halos over them. I laugh and accidentally bump into him. Causing the halo to go right into the head of his angel. He drags me down on top of him, and we tussle. “My angel was perfect!” I flip us over, “Not as perfect as mine was!” I say as we roll across both of our angels, ruining them. I pout, “Now, we gotta do them all over again.” He scrunches his nose up, and it’s my turn to throw us into a blanket of snow. 

We recreate our original snow angels, and with a chill, we head back into the castle. Sitting across from him in the great hall, I bet him a sickle that I can beat him in Wizard’s chess. He pouts, “You have an unfair advantage!” I look up and pretend to think about it, “I don’t know whatever you mean.” He glares, “You and Jinyoung are on the chess team.” I shrug, “Maybe” He shakes his head, and between us appears a chessboard. I let him make a move first, “Okay,... No pressure. Pawn to F3.” My jaw drops, seeing as I was going to take him out in three moves. And now this game is going to go longer than I intended it. “What?” I sigh, “Nothing,...” He smirks, “I’ve watched you and Jinyoung play enough to know that’s the only safe bet with you guys.” I roll my eyes, and I start taking him out piece by piece. I stopped paying attention to his pawns and attention to killing off the queen. I have everything except the rook and a bishop when he lands a pawn on my side. “I’d like my queen.” My jaw drops, and with the way, his queen sits at E1. His queen and rook unite in killing my king. Not only am I in shock but agony. He chuckles, “Beginner’s luck!” I sigh and laugh out, “Experienced loser!” He grins, “Ayy, you’ve beat Jinyoung how many times at chess?” I shrug, “Never lost to a beginner though.” He smirks, “Life is always open to new opportunities, right?” I cross my arms and pout, “I guess” He ruffles my hair and pulls out of his pocket three of my pieces that I seemingly lost. “You little--” He scampers off, and I chase him around the tables. “That’s cheating!” Our laughter booming off the walls, “Not if you didn’t catch me!” I finally catch up to him and wrap my arms around him. “Now, I did.” He mumbles, “You did years ago.” But I couldn’t quite make out what he said. 

I give him his sickle, “But I cheated?” I shrug, “My loss, cause I didn’t pay attention to you sneaking the pieces off the board.” He flicks it up and says, “Heads we sit in front of the fire after sneaking butterbeer from the kitchens. Or tails you buy us butterbeer from the three broomsticks.” I shake my head, “Oh Merlin,... I hope it’s heads.” He catches it on his forearm, and I look over his shoulder to see which side landed right-side up. “Heads!” I point to him and say, “Your common room!” He looks over and asks, “Why’s that?” I shrug, “It’s closer, less likely to be caught.” He smirks, “And when did you ever care about that?” I roll my eyes, “I don’t want to spend my winter break scrubbing cauldrons.” “Fair enough.” 

We grab a case of butterbeer and a few pastries before we head to the Hufflepuff common room. “You guys decorated?” He nods, “Of course, all the third years got together like three weeks ago and decorated it.” I smile, “It’s so beautiful,...” He smiles, “I think so too.” We sprawl out on the couch and watch the flame twinkle. We each pop open a bottle, and he says, “You know I didn’t plan to stay here.” I look over at him and ask him why he was then. “My parents are helping my brother move into his new house.” I nod, “I bet that’s hard, isn’t it? When you go back, you won’t see your brother.” He sighs, “Yeah,... I miss him already, I know he writes to me all the time. But I guess it’s hard to know something consistent is no longer.” I nod, “I understand that, Gyeom.” He puts his face into my shoulder, and I reach my hand up and play with his hair. He asks me why I’m here this year, “My mother is stationed in another country. You know how she’s an Auror and all it’s just weird not to spend the holidays with her.” He nods, “I know, exactly, what you mean.” I rest my head on top of his and take in the moment together. 

--

Today is Christmas, and since I decided to stay with Yugyeom in his dorm. Since everyone else in our year is at home for the holidays. I had no one to bunk with within my house. Yugyeom is already in front of the fire and has a butterbeer cracked open. His presents on top of his lap, and I hide my gift for him behind my back. He looks over and sees me and cracks another butterbeer open, and tells me it's mine. I grin and join him on the couch, both of us dressed in fluffy pajamas. He scoots closer to me and hands me a small box. I give him my gift, and he smiles. We decided to save each other for last. Bambam’s mom made my owl a cardigan, and he got me a human-sized one. It seems they did the same for each of us, in a variety of colors. I laugh at Mark’s gift for Yugyeom is a set of fake tattoos. The note says, “To fulfill your need for more!” He laughed as well, and Mark gave me a coffee mug with three different packs of hot cocoa. Knowing I will share it with the rest of the group. Each gift makes me feel warm and fuzzy. It's nice to know I have such good friends. 

I reach to open Yugyeom’s gift to me, and he tells me, “Before you open yours,... I have something to tell you.” I nod, “Okay,...” He finishes up with his gift, “I,... uh,... I’ve liked you since our second year.” I grin, “That’s a relief since I’ve liked you since second as well.” He smiles and we open our gifts. It’s a gold necklace with his name scrawled out, “It’s beautiful, Yugyeom.” He smiles and finds that I got him a similar gift, but with my name written in cursive. “So can I call you mine?” I ask him softly as he turns around and has me clasp the necklace around his neck. “If I  get to call you mine, in turn.” 

I point up at the ceiling there hangs a big bundle of mistletoe. “They say Hogwarts mistletoe is special.” He finishes my sentence, “It only appears above couples who are meant to be.” I place my hand on his cheek, and he holds my face in his hands. And for the first time, I kiss the lips of Kim Yugyeom. Maybe spending winter break at Hogwarts was the best idea my mother had yet.

#yugyeom #yugyeom x reader #yugyeom x y/n #kim yugyeom #got7 #got7 x reader #got7 x you #got7 x y/n #winter break #15 down 10 to go #kim yugyeom got7 #yugyeom got7 #got7 fluff #yugyeom fluff #christmas fluff #kpop fluff #christmas prompts #christmas #hogwarts #hogwarts au #got7 christmas #kpop x reader #kpop x you #kpop #got7 kpop #yugyeom kpop #kim yugyeom fluff #kim yugyeom x reader #kim yugyeom x you #kim yugyeom x y/n

[mockinggold]

Excerpt from everyone changes (and my darling we are no exception)

“It was no secret that Shouto's family was extremely well off. Both of his parents were successful in the medical field, but Shouto considered them humble. They didn't have one of those gargantuan houses or unnecessarily expensive clothing. They got what they needed, some of what they wanted, and didn't flaunt their wealth. His mother was usually quite generous. She knew that their family had more money than they needed, so she donated to charities, tipped minimum wage workers well, was overall generous.

Even when Shouto told her that his ex-boyfriend's house burned down, she decided to help out. Shouto was friends with all of his exes except one (who can get second degree burns in hell. Not third, Shouto wanted that bitch to feel every ounce of pain, that scum doesn't deserve any scorched nerves), and even though they had been broken up, Shouto and his mother were happy to help because he was a good person and they talked and caught up with each other from time to time. Rei grew up in a third-world country, immigrating to Shouto's home country to become a doctor. Shouto doesn't remember, but his mother loved to tell Shouto about how when he was two, he walked around the courtroom with a purpose as Rei was getting her citizenship.

Shouto's father wasn't as generous as his mother was. Enji wasn't too fond of the idea of helping Shouto's ex for some weird reason that Shouto is too embarrassed to admit. His parents got into a mild argument about it and Shouto felt awkward watching it happen. They worked it out, they always did.

One day, Shouto asked his mother a question about it. "Mom," he started. "You're extremely generous with money. I understand why; we have the means to do so. Why is dad so much more conservative with money?"

"Well, it's rooted in our upbringings," she said. "When I was in Peru, my family was dirt poor. We didn't have the best furniture, the best home, but we still invited people over, because we had a lot of love to give. I wanted to have a better life for my family. A house that could meet its needs and still be filled with love.

Rei looked up at the sky as the two of them sat on the porch. The sun beginning to disappear as it painted the houses golden also caused the weather to cool down, the cooling concrete taking away heat ever so slightly from the underside of his legs. A couple of cars were parked on the side of the road. People that didn't live in the neighborhood didn't come by very often. Seeing as Shouto's neighborhood was a no outlet neighborhood, it was useless for them to do so.

Rei pointed at the cars lined up on the curb. "Back in Peru, we didn't go near parked cars," she said softly. Shouto tilted his head, waiting for her to explain. "It wasn't uncommon for cars to explode. Terrorists would rig cars and they would explode. Sometimes I would be walking with my friends and we heard a faint explosion and smoke rise. We would keep going because it was relatively common. It was a little scary, but at that point, we were used to it, we became numb to the fear."

Shouto imagined a scenario where he would be walking down the street and a car exploded because of terrorists. It would definitely make headlines all around, maybe national news depending on how many people got hurt. The thought irked him, yet his mother spoke about it so casually.

She waved her hand dismissively. "But I'm getting off-topic," she said. "Do you know how I was able to afford this home, this lifestyle?"

Shouto was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to answer, so he leaned in, waiting for an answer.

"I got lucky."

Shouto scrunched his nose, not sure if he fully agreed with his mother. "But... you worked extremely hard to get where you are."

"Yes, I worked hard, but there's so much more to it. Tell me, do you know how many people immigrate to this country a year in hopes of a better life?"

Shouto thought long and hard, not a hundred percent sure on what the correct answer was. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Millions," his mother stressed. "Millions of people come into this country, legally and illegally, in order to make a better life for themselves. They work hard, do everything they can, work for ten, twelve hours a day to make a living, get an education, work just as hard as I did. Do you know how many of those millions get in a similar position to us?"

Shouto shook his head. Rei had a weak smile on her face. "Not many," she said. "Have I ever told you the story of how I got a visa?"

Shouto shook his head, now extremely intrigued. With a soft smile, she looked to the other houses that lined the streets. "Back when I was married to my first husband, with your two half-siblings, I went to get a visa for three months here. I was going to travel across the country for different job interviews. I gave the woman the papers, she read them over, and she shook her head."

Shouto's eyes slightly widened, confused as to why they would deny him a visa. "She told me, 'No. I cannot give you a visa. You stated that your mother and sister live here. You will just stay with them after your visa expires.' And I was shocked, heartbroken, scared. I needed that visa."

Shouto leaned in even more, wanting to hear more and more of what his mother had to say. "And I looked at her, and I said, 'No, you're wrong.' I'll never forget the look of shock she had when I told her that. I said, 'I didn't have to tell you about my mother and sister. I could have lied and said I had no family here and you would have never known. I came to you an honest woman because I need these job interviews. I will not stay with my mother and sister. I have three reasons that I can't, and they are sitting in the waiting room right now. So please, may I have this visa?'"

Shouto was speechless, he wasn't sure what to say to that, knowing his mother argued her way into the country. He always knew that his mother had that type of drive, but he had no idea that something like that ever happened. "She looked at me with a confused and shocked face. She told me, 'This is highly irregular, I need to go speak to my manager'. She must have only been gone for five minutes, but those were some of the longest five minutes of my life. Finally, she came back. And she looked at me and said, 'Seventeen days. Your job interviews will span about seventeen days, that's all I'm giving you.' And she stamped my visa and handed it to me. I almost collapsed at that moment, but I got my visa. That was January 15th, 1991. Do you know what happened the next day?"

Shouto once again shook his head. "January 16th, 1991. The United States invaded Kuwait. Desert Storm. That day, all the embassies closed down for months, nobody could get visas," she said.

It made him extremely uneasy to hear about how his mother almost wasn't allowed in the country. He already knew that she was there illegally for a short amount of time. He knew that two of his sisters and his brother came to the country illegally. Because according to them, it was hard as hell to get into the country legally, it was their only option.

"So to go back to your original question," Rei said. "Our mindsets and upbringings are what makes your father and I think so much different about money. I feel like I got a lot of the money I have now by luck, making me feel like I can be generous because I was close to not having it, I know what it's like to not have it. Your father, on the other hand, grew up in a middle-class home and is now in the upper-middle class. He feels that he earned every cent of his, which makes him more hesitant to give it away. And there's nothing wrong with that. Just like political ideologies, there's nothing wrong with wanting to hold onto your finances as long as nobody is getting harmed in the process. Hard work, getting lucky, the two are polar opposites, but you'll see that in those less fortunate. They are willing to give away things to others in need because they know what it's like.

Shouto was not a huge fan of being touched, it was no secret after he had to spill a couple at the mental hospital, but one thing he loved was when his mother would ruffle his hair gently like she did when he was small. She raised her hand and hovered it towards Shouto, knowing now that he liked warning when someone was going to touch him. He scooted closer to his mother, leaning forward. With a smile, she ruffled his hair, making him feel safe.”

—————————

Anyway I just think my dad has the most swag in the world

#ao3 #writing #writer #fanfiction #fanfic #bnha