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tsukiihime · 4 years

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Heartbreak (Bakugou x Reader), (Shinsou x Reader) Part 2

The second part to the fic I wrote, this will probably be my last post for another week since I have school to catch up on. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Angst, a bit more fluff on Shinsou’s end, drinking

Taglist: @sugarandsoft

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It’s three in the morning, and Bakugou can’t sleep.

He’s beyond pissed at himself for staying up this late, but he can’t help it - he’s been in bed since nine and he can’t get you out of his mind. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you stormed out of the apartment. He regrets not chasing after you, he loathes himself for being such a dick and he hates himself for even letting his stupid agency dictate his personal life. He wants to tell you so bad that you’re wrong, that beating Deku doesn’t mean a damn thing to him if it means he has to lose you. He wants to hear your voice so bad it hurts. He knows you’ll be going to Shinsou - you always do when you have a bad fight. He knows you’ll be safe there, but he feels like such a fool. He let you walk out in the rain on your own. What a hero he turned out to be.

Bakugou spends the night alternating between flipping through the endless channels on the living room TV and staring at the ceiling. Every time he closes his eyes he sees your face - anger boiling your blood, disbelief painting your features as he fights with you, tears staining your cheeks. He feels sick to his stomach imagining you walking in the cold as you leave the apartment, sniffling as you make your way out in the rain. He wants to call you to explain himself.

But he doesn’t. His pride won’t let him.

It’s his pride that makes him trudge out to bars with Denki, Mina, and Sero the next day after you leave - he needs alcohol in his system to numb himself from the thought of you. Anyone will do if it warms his bed and makes your face disappear for even a second. God, he never thought he would be so hung up on you. He downs beer after beer, dances with woman after woman. Names and faces blur together as a cacophony of voices plays in his head.

He ends up taking someone home that night - he couldn’t remember her even if he tried. He takes her back to the apartment you shared and pushes her onto the bed you shared. He kisses her collarbone and up her neck, but he’s aiming for your favorite spots instead of hers. The image of you overlaps with her, and he sees your figure beneath him instead of some stranger. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s his broken heart playing tricks on him.

He kisses her, imagining it’s your scent he’s breathing in rather than the vanilla and booze she smells of. He pictures your arms wrapping around his neck, your lips on his. She says his name, like honey on her lips, whispers it into his ear. And if he tries hard enough, he can twist her voice in his head to sound like you.

“Katsuki, I love you.” He hears it over and over, sees your smile and hears your laugh. “Katsuki, I love you.”

He makes her leave after that. She’s upset but he is too - an argument ensures and she storms out, leaving behind her underwear in her hurry to leave.

He doesn’t notice. He’s too busy thinking of you.

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It’s been three weeks since your breakup with Bakugou.

The news stations and gossip websites have been flooded with reports of Camie and Katsuki - neither have said anything about their relationship and the speculation of if they are or aren’t a couple is driving everyone wild. Thankfully, the people who were leaving awful comments have long since left you alone, prompting you to turn your Instagram to private and changing your username so they can’t find you easily.

You’ve been avoiding social media like the plague, ignoring all television interviews that involve either Bakugou or Camie - you’ve learned your lesson from the night of the Hero Rankings. But you’re only human after all, and the one time your curiosity got the better of you, you dove into the comments on a tabloid’s website to see what the public was saying.

It doesn’t escape your notice that the comments are much kinder - it ranges from well wishes to remarks about how they wish they could replace Bakugou or Camie in the relationship. No one mentions you, which you are grateful for. You know the media thrives off of drama and rumors, so you’re content to have been forgotten about in this narrative.

Shinsou’s been treating you like normal - another thing you’re grateful for. He is kind without being overbearing, and he gives you distance while also being there for you when you need it. You’ve migrated from sleeping on the couch to crashing in his bed, and more often than not you fall asleep to the smell of his body wash as you lay on his chest.

You wonder what Bakugou would say if he saw you. He knew how close you and Shinsou were and still are, but anyone could think that you and the purple haired man were lovers. Here you are, getting upset at your ex-boyfriend for having a woman over two days after the breakup, when you are falling asleep in the arms of another man - even if he is your best friend. You wonder if that makes you a hypocrite. Your emotions are in chaos, all jumbled and confused. You miss physical intimacy and a part of you wonders if you’re just using Shinsou as a replacement. “It’s better to sift through these feelings when I’m calmer”, you think to yourself, “I’ll come back to it when I’m in a better place.”

Otherwise, you’ve been steadily making your way back to a normal life - work, school, and your personal life all seem to be peaceful and you’re content in a way you hadn’t been for a long time with Bakugou. Of course, the wounds of the breakup are still healing, but you’re doing a lot better from three weeks ago, when you couldn’t even bring yourself to get out of bed. Shinsou has been making sure that you eat properly and that you take care of yourself. Now that you’re out of that post breakup funk, he notices that you’re cheerful and upbeat - a good sign that you’re slowly recovering from your heartbreak.

Today, you’re home alone while Shinsou patrols the city - he’s promised to pick up dinner on his way home so you don’t have to cook. He’s looking forward to tonight - you’ve finished all of your school work for the weekend and you’re off from work until Monday. He’s eager to come home to you, he’s turned down his coworkers invitations to drink so he can spend the weekend with you. He’s picked up food from your favorite Mexican restaurant, and he’s stopped at the grocery store to get your favorite flavor of ice cream - the one that’s almost always sold out.

He arrives home to see you lazing about the house - you’re laying on your back on the couch, holding your pastel Animal Crossing Edition Switch with a bag of chips resting on the table next to you. Your eyebrows are furrowed together as you focus on beating the shit out of a boss in Cuphead - a game you and Shinsou spent hours playing when it came out trying to pass the incredibly difficult levels. You’re wearing Shinsou’s favorite hoodie again - you might as well claim it as your own already you wear it so much - and your fuzzy cat print socks match with a fluffy cat ear headband that keeps your hair out of your face. Your face is recently washed and slightly pink, and he can smell your favorite coconut body wash from where he’s standing. He waits until you lose the stage (let's face it - there’s no way you’re beating that damn clown boss without his help) and he makes his way over to you, leaning over to look down at you as you exhale in annoyance at your loss.

“Hey there, I got dinner. Also nabbed some dessert for you - ready to watch nothing but ghost stories for the rest of the night?” You stretch out your arms and legs, groaning as you move to stand from the couch.

“Only if you promise to sleep next to me until I see sunlight again.” You hate ghost stories - you can handle scary movies about murderers and clowns but you don’t mess with ghosts. The only reason you’re watching tonight is because you know it’s Shinsou’s favorite and he always watches your nature documentaries even though you know deep down he probably doesn’t enjoy them as much as you do. You saunter over to the kitchen, and prop yourself on the counter facing Shinsou as you pull a taco to your mouth. “Ugh, even though the Exorcist was made like 50 years ago it still gives me the creeps. I can’t believe,” you take a moment to drink some water, “that you can watch her crawl backwards down the stairs and not piss your pants.” Shinsou lowly chuckles, giving a teasing smile as he unwraps his burrito.

“It’s ‘cause I’m not a chicken.” You roll your eyes and snort.

“Whatever Mindjack. Not everyone can be as fearless as you.” He smirks as you swing your legs, turning your full attention to the taco you have in front of you. “Hurry up and finish so we can do a facemask before our movie marathon. You didn’t forget about that did you?”

“‘Course not. You wouldn’t let me forget even if I tried, since you’re such a nagger.” You pout, hopping off the counter to wash your hands. Shinsou spends a bit too much time admiring how small you look wearing his hoodie - enveloped in something that belongs to him makes him swell with pride even if it’s wrong of him to think so. He wonders when he started to feel this way towards you, when his love changed from a close friend to an admirer. When he remembers his life, you are always there with him. By his side like a part of his body, always around when important events pass by, always by his side when the going gets tough. It’s not as if he’s always been pining for you - he’s brought other girlfriends around before even if the romance fizzles out before long - but recently he’s noticed you in a different light. Your bedhead and your sleeping face are just as cute to him as when you have your hair done and makeup on. Bringing other men over was never a problem, you’re his best friend and your happiness was always the first priority. But now, he finds himself annoyed at the mere mention of possible partners. You have no shortage of those - you’ve always been able to draw people to you as nerdy as you are - and the green vines of jealousy wrap around his heart every time someone gives you a gift on Valentine’s Day or someone asks you out for a coffee. You usually turn them down since you have so much to focus on, work and school makes you a busy woman after all. But he can’t help but be irritated at the stares you get in public sometimes - as beautiful as you are, you would think that you’d notice the way others look at you. He’s always loved you, but now he feels this once platonic love changing into pure romance, he aches for you like he’s never had before - longing for your touches, your hugs, your feather light kisses on his forehead when he’s having a tough day. The guilt he feels every time he holds you close like he did when you were kids, when you lay your head on his chest and he plays with your hair. To you, it’s still the action of a best friend, but to him it’s something he’d do for a lover. And yet, you’re oblivious, as dense as a rock but he loves that part too. How infuriatingly adorable you are sometimes.

“‘Toooooshi~”, You wave your hand in his face as he comes back to reality. You raise an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” Your arms cross as you stare at him, suspicious that he’s hiding something from you.

“You ready? I got everything set up.” He nods, and you turn to walk towards his bedroom.

Shinsou’s room is quite neat, a black bed in the corner next to ceiling to floor windows that gives a pretty good view of the city. He scored a good location in spite of his modest salary - he’s in it for the heroism and the good deeds, not the money. He may not make as much as Bakugou, Todoroki, or Deku, but he does alright. His capture weapon and artificial vocal cords mask rest atop his bookshelf, populated with picture books of you and him in your younger days, as well as a Polaroid camera you left with him when he went off to U.A and you stayed in Saitama. Next to the parts of his Hero costume is a picture of you and him on a trip to the beach - one he treasures above all else. In it, he holds you bridal style as you both smile from ear to ear at the camera. You’re practically glowing, wearing a bright yellow bikini set with a see through beach coverup wrapped around your hips, sunglasses resting atop your head. Shinsou recalls how you nagged him to actually swim with you, and you pretty much forced him to wear those green swim shorts - this picture was before he decided to run with you in his arms to the water.

He sees your presence everywhere he looks in his room. After he reassured you that you weren’t a burden, you’ve basically turned his home into your home as well. The bottom half of his bookshelf is claimed as yours - it’s filled with your favorite stories, and your collection of Switch games is stacked next to the shelf neatly. Your laptop rests on his bed (you were no doubt doing homework before you got distracted and started playing Cuphead before he got home) with your Geology textbook open and notebooks filled with notes and highlighted phrases. Your clothes have been hung up in his closet, with your makeup and perfumes taking over three-fourths of his bathroom counter. If anyone else came to visit, they’d think you two were an item.

But alas, you two are not.

You push your schoolwork and computer aside to make room for you and Hitoshi, making your way towards the bathroom to grab a basket of skin care products and face masks. Shinsou knows how much you care about your skin - and by extension his skin - and he watches as you walk from here to there gathering what you need. You turn to him with a huge grin on your face as you hold up a matching cat headband in the color black, something you picked up from the store before you came home last week. He sighs, but turns around anyways to allow you to pull his lavender hair back into a loose ponytail and place the cat headband on his head before turning back to face you.

He looks so silly wearing it, but for you, he’ll do anything. You grab your phone and open the front camera, sticking your tongue out while grabbing Shinsou’s face, squishing his cheeks as he makes an annoyed face at the camera. After taking the photo, you upload it to your now private Instagram and send the picture to Shinsou who does the same. He’s always been a private man, so you don’t worry about the public getting a hold of the photos and trying to make a story out of your life like with Bakugou.

Tossing your phone aside, you motion for Hitoshi to turn towards you, propping yourself up on your knees in front of him as he sits cross legged. You giggle as he looks back at you, reaching to grab a jar of your favorite moisturizer and opening it. The smell is familiar to him - you always smell like it at night when you watch TV while sitting next to him in the living room. You start to apply the product to his face, careful to keep it out of his eyes and mouth. “You need to take better care of your skin ‘Toshi.”

“I know. I’ve been putting sunscreen on like you’ve asked.” He’s not lying, it’s become a part of his routine ever since you suggested it.

“Good. You better be taking the time to eat properly at work too. I know you’re sleeping normally again since I’ve been here, so I won’t lecture you on that.” You glance at his arms, covered in scattered scars from run ins with villains.

Most people look at heroes as an invincible force, unstoppable like All Might. Others may see Mindjack, but you just see Hitoshi Shinsou, your partner in crime.

“Thank you Hitoshi...for everything.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself.

“I didn’t know this facemask meant so much to you.” You punch him in the shoulder as he laughs.

“‘Toshi, I’m serious. Look at all you’ve done for me. You let me crash here, listen to me complain, make sure I’m okay...without you, I probably would still be lying in bed all depressed.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “I have to say it before I never get the chance to. You may be Mindjack, a hero, but you’re still Hitoshi to me. You do so much for me and you put your life on the line for others every day. I watch you and I’m proud of the boy who proved everyone wrong when they said you had a villain’s quirk. You being here for me after everything with Bakugou and always being there for me growing up makes me realize how much you mean to me. You’re my hero, ‘Toshi. But I need you to stay safe. Look at all your scars...” You pull back from the hug and grab his arms, running your fingers over his scarred skin. You’ve always known Shinsou’s job is dangerous - he’s a hero after all, he saves people. But he’s also your best friend. He’s a selfless man, a kind man.

You love Shinsou. You truly do, he is someone you can never lose. To lose him would be to lose a part of you.

He says nothing in response, so you continue. “Remember that time you fought that villain in the subway? All the news stations said that the tunnel was going to collapse and I just felt like my heart was going to burst. I saw you getting trapped and I felt like…”

You trail off, feeling the familiar sting of tears as you hold them back. Hitoshi gazes at you, lilac eyes boring into your own. “I felt like my whole world was ending. When you came out alright I thought I would faint. I was so scared ‘Toshi… scared you wouldn’t come back. I don’t want to lose you.” Shinsou grabs your cheeks, gently moving his hands so you face him. He wipes a tear from your eye.

“I’ll always come back to you.” You close your eyes, and press your forehead to his.

“You better. I’ll be waiting.”

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Bakugou wants to be anywhere else but here.

He’s at Kirishima’s apartment - he’s been dragged out of his house by Mina and Kaminari for a night of drinking, with Sero and Jirou also coming along for the ride. The blonde would rather be in bed, wallowing in his misery, but his friends won’t let him stay inside. So he pouts in the corner, arms crossed and a permanent scowl painting his features. Kirishima gives him a knowing smile, and mouths “I’m sorry”. Bakugou clicks his tongue and looks away, grabbing his phone in order to distract himself from all the noise.

He would rather die than admit it, but he’s been looking for your Instagram ever since you left. You must’ve unfollowed him or even blocked him - he can’t find a trace of you anywhere. He hates this pathetic side of him, one that makes him seem like a stalker, but he has to know you’re okay. If his pride won’t let him call you, then he needs to know you’re okay.

To his surprise, you pop up on his feed. He immediately inspects the photo of you, and breathes a sigh of relief to see your face. Your tongue is sticking out all playful, beaming as you hold Hitoshi’s face for the photo. You’re wearing that cat headband you always use when washing your face, and he can tell you’re almost ready for bed. He smiles solemnly, vermilion eyes staring at you, so far away.

He notices you’re wearing one of Shinsou’s hoodies and his blood boils at the thought - he knows you are friends but he hates the idea of anyone else having you - although he shouldn’t be one to talk after bringing home that girl from the club. He hates himself for doing it. He stares at your face before standing, saying a curt “I’ll be back” before making his way to the balcony. His friend’s voices fade as he stands outside overlooking the city, and he makes sure the coast is clear before dialing your number.

Fuck his pride. He has to hear your voice.

#bnha x fem!reader #bnha x you #shinsou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha angst #shinsou x you #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x y/n #hitoshi shinso x y/n #mha x reader #my writing

207 notes · View notes

muwur · 4 years

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snapchat headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for using snapchat w ur boi toi ft. the pretty setter squad

❧ gn reader

✎ 3.1k words

a/n: kinda a combo of how they use sc and the kinds of snaps they send you! along w wat u send them, and uh... dating stuf n shenanigans? texting/snapping habits? my fantasies? IDEK ANYMORE EOFHEFJ

this was born from the recesses of my mind , which desired nothing mor than snapchats from suga , us sending cute selfies , others bein dumb n chaotic , no context videos , n him snapping me photos of some mangoes on sale he said he’ll buy for me DXX it’s too late for me now

doing research on hq bois and surfing thru sc features (im just now realizing theres quite a bit?? im hoping i address most of them at some point lolol) instead of real life tings aHHhhhHAHA

requests: open! will be working on a suga one i got, dw, requester!

sugawara

✧ sends good morning and good night snaps

✧ so he’s rlly good at keeping streaks, probs has the longest ones (one of them being y’alls streak)

✧ posts tidbits of volleyball practice on his story every once in a while

✧ snaps you pics of his sleeping teammates when they’re coming back to school after a long day of matches , adding a single ‘❤️’ as a caption

✧ he will also create colorful masterpieces on all of them

✧ gives daichi a santa beard, tanaka a squiggly stache (i imagine it to look like spongebob n patrick’s seaweed ones now that were mEN), n kageyama sum angry brows,,, wait he already has them lolol u good der kags

✧ posts a picture of you when you’re hanging out, captioning it: “🥰“

✧ has conversations with you purely via snaps

✧ ranges from casual chats and checking up on u to crackwhoring ( ** indicates the photo, while the “” quotes indicate the caption, all snaps are italicized, otherwise its regular dialogue)

✧ suga: *peace sign* “hey sweetheart, how r u?”

✧ you: *pics of homework* “ahh, drowning in school ;-; i cant wait for this week to be over fghjkl”

✧ suga: *close up with :o on his face* “let’s study together tmrw!”

✧ or

✧ suga: *complete darkness* “its 3 am n i cant sleep”

✧ you: *the top half of your head, laying on a pillow* “ ;( aw babe. do u want me to send something to help u sleep?”

✧ suga: *still in darkness* “y u still up?? go sleep. n 🥺 yes pls”

✧ you: *snaps pics of feet* “that’ll be 50 bucks, pay up”

✧ suga: *darkness remains* “can we make a trade instead? i promise to make it worth ;)”

✧ ok now u BOTH cant sleep (im sry my crackheading be acting up around 2am eeryday, i stan a mischievous suga--)

✧ video chats (in the darkness lol) instead until you both pass out (im not in luv u r 😭)

✧ super down to take filtered selfies w you

✧ does all the silly ones with you (things like ’angry face’ or the frog one)

✧ but also rlly digs lookin cute with you using some heart crowns, y’all an aesthetic (n crakhead) duo fosho

✧ def subscribes to life hacks and tries them out himself, has a 50% success rate

kageyama

✧ doesn’t rlly use snapchat too much

✧ but when he does

✧ will either send you a picture to indicate he’s at volleyball practice (wow wat a sexi lookin gym floor)

✧ or some random picture of whatever he’s doing at the moment (*drinking milk*)

✧ this is mostly in order to save streaks

✧ he’s so bad at streaks

✧ “why does it matter?? what’s the point of sending just black screens or whatever’s in front of you at the moment??”

✧ can’t keep a consistent streak for more than 3 days and also doesn’t care (until hinata challenges him to see who can have the longer one)

✧ when you send him videos of him playing, he really focuses on them to try to improve his technique. asks you to send those vids to him (assuming u saved them, which u did)

✧ but when you look over his shoulder when he’s watching a video and give him some compliment (“i recorded at the perfect moment! that was a really good set, kageyama!”), he gets a bit flustered

✧ gets even more flustered but pretty happy whenever you post videos on your story showing karasuno winning some points with captions like:

✧ “footage of the legendary quick >.>” or “karasuno crows flyin high!” or “these bois make my heart 😭 im so proud”

✧ you WILL catch him off guard in photos, using filters that surrounds his head w/ emojis like 🥺💖🥰💘

✧ you also put these on your story (to his dismay)

✧ ppl comment on these mor than anything else (n for those who dont rlly kno kageyama, theyre kinda surprised to him like this)

✧ hinata snickers “hey kageyama you look pretty good here--”

✧ takes some selfies with you, mostly cuz you want them

✧ saves them after u send them over (n secretly cherishes them)

✧ occasionally watches his subscriptions, they’ll usually involve sports, mostly volleyball (who woulda guessed)

✧ you use his bitmoji to test out random facial expressions you would never see him wear

✧ you: “can you smile and wink like this? act like you’re the obnoxious charming guy in a shojo.”

✧ will actually attempt, but it looks so bad that you die inside and he never wants to try again cuz of ur laughing outburst (you: “😭😭 bb im sorry i couldnt help it”)

oikawa

✧ literally sends you anything and everything

✧ morning bathroom selfie to show off how good his hair came out that day, saying:

✧ “he has risen”

✧ or “i woke up like this”

✧ and my favorite, “you’re lucky you get this content for frEE”

✧ selfies with iwa, who just looks annoyed and exasperated at the camera

✧ sends you pics of his lunch and snacks (“bet u wish u had milk bread too”)

✧ always packs extra milk bread so he could convince you to stay at his practice after school--

✧ FILTERSS

✧ I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENUF

✧ will either use the filters that make him kayooottt (cute)

✧ loves the ones named ‘hearts,’ ‘soft,’ ‘peach,’ ‘butterfly cheeks,’ vsco filters LOL, etc

✧ uses ‘big mouth’ when he feelin a bit sASSY; also loves to use this one when he rants, it channels his inner valley girl

✧ sometimes he’ll be snacking or drinking something while he does so (“hey guys today im gonna eat these milk buns from my favorite bakery and this bomb orange juice and complain about this little kid who talked smack to me earlier and almost made me cry--”)

✧ takes cute selfies with you, is an aesthetic selfie king, puts them on his story to show off he’s hangin with you

✧ but on your story you only post the ones he looks bad in LOL

✧ has separate stories for his every need, some r private (and lucky you, ur included in all of them)

✧ titles them ‘mean things iwa said to me today,’ ‘ranting hotbox + mukbangs,’ ‘a day in the life of oikawa,’ ‘volleyball 🏐,’ ‘unpopular opinions,’ etc.

✧ fitting room photoshoots lol

✧ “y/n, what do you think of this??” “and this?” “oOH WHAT ABOUT THIS??”

✧ ends up calling you through video chat so you can live critique his choices

✧ “oikawa, please no, i can’t be seen with you in public if you wear those--”

✧ also changes his bitmoji’s outfits from time to time, hopes you’ll notice, but you don’t LOL (oikawa: ;((((((( )

kenma

✧ uses sc usually just to reply to messages ppl send him

✧ indifferent about streaks, but keeps a few with ppl he’s closer to

✧ mindlessly plays the snapchat games with you, finds some of them kinda cute

✧ you both made his bitmoji for him, dressing his up in the orange cat suit

✧ you also helped make kuroo’s and put his in the black cat suit to match--

✧ snaps you every time he gets a new game, starts playing it, and once he finishes

✧ started to post some gameplays and reviews on his sc story (might as well add them to sc since he was already on other social platforms), and ended up amassing a large following

✧ follows the tech and gaming stories on sc

✧ as well as the ones with cute animals--

✧ open to selfies with you, usually wears a calm expression and holds up a peace sign

✧ even occasionally sticks his tongue out

✧ his story is occasionally heavily bombarded with candids of him w/ pretty sc filters, all taken by you

✧ but of all the filters, you love using the clout glasses on him

✧ especially when he’s just minding his own business

✧ “kenma, in his tru habitat” when hes cocooned in a blanket

✧ “kenma, on his way to steal yo manz” while on his way to the bathroom

✧ “kenma, next iron chef. watch out gordon” as he’s cooking instant ramen

✧ “kenma” n das it

✧ but he thinks it meme-y so he lets you do whatever you want, kinda digs it

✧ you end up dedicating your snap story to memes of kenma and the nekoma volleyball team. ppl are in it for the shits n giggles n hot bois

✧ you later discover someone else did the same thing with their volleyball team filled with hot bois from shiratorizawa, and you befriend tendou and share funni internet tings

akaashi

✧ 99% of his photos include either you or bokuto or both

✧ bokuto spams akaashi’s story and contact list with selfies and videos of himself using weird filters, often gets you to join him

✧ has several streaks, but will send something with more substance than a black screen or his bedroom window

✧ will usually involve smthng that just happened to him or smthing he saw, like:

✧ “a kind older lady offered me some apples in return for helping her”

-or:

✧ “how do i break the news to bokuto that the yaikniku place he’s been wanting to go to for the past week ,,, is closed today”

✧ o n let’s not leave out:

✧ “is it possible to conjure a ghost using a wooden spatula, ketchup, and a chalk drawn hexagram? bokuto’s been paranoid ever since he tried last night and i dont know what to tell him. seriously, help”

✧ looks through stories occasionally, comments whenever bokuto makes questionable decisions

✧ also comments on whatever you’ve posted. his words range from “you’re cute” to “why,” depending on the content

✧ ppl know when y’all are hanging out cuz he’ll post smthing to indicate he’s with you, usually it’s some candid and you’re not paying attention

✧ appreciation posts for you as well! esp if you got him something, like onigiri or his fav, Nanohana no Karashiae , for lunch! (akaashi: *snaps a pic of his food* “thank you y/n for feeding me”)

✧ prefers video calling over texting/snapping whenever possible tho

✧ occasionally reminisces thru his sc memories

✧ enjoys the flashback feature and will send them to you and bokuto (cuz they’re about y’all anyway lolol)

✧ also has secretly saved a bunch of selfies of himself, consists of him trying out a lot of the filters (he feelin himself)

✧ you, one day, looking thru his phone and discovering them: “akaashi, you’re so pretty wtf”

✧ akaashi: “...”

koganegawa

✧ sends you selfies of him before practice

✧ during breaks

✧ and after practice, usually makes a comment about how it went for him that day like:

✧ “i hit a decent toss today and futakuchi actually complimented me!”

✧ that, or:

✧ “i got yelled at 17 times today 😢😩”

✧ has quite a few streaks, his longest ones being with you and hinata

✧ def uses filters

✧ tries out every funny one he finds and sends you videos

✧ “look y/n im an aaaaAALlliiEEENnnNNN oo oo hoo hhhooOOh”

✧ “now im a chicky nuggy!!” (chicken nugget)

✧ also enjoys the doodle feature

✧ but he uses the filter with the clout glasses unironically--

✧ usually when smth good happens to him and he feels happy and/or cool about it

✧ “just beat the boss in this game on my 69th try B)”

✧ “kogane, that’s--”

✧ plays sc games with you and thinks bitmojis r cool

✧ kinda sad he cant find a hair option that matches him tho lolol rip

✧ you: “you hair’s just,,, unique,,,”

✧ subscribed to anything sports and fitness, as well as pop culture so he can stay in the loop

✧ also watches everyone else’s stories, pointing out whenever he sees smthing cool and/or interesting

✧ “woahh, karasuno’s at nationals right now! i wish we could’ve won, but next year for sure!!”

✧ you encourage him at all his games, hyping him up irl and online

✧ “koganegawa: best setter 😍!!”

✧ luckily you didnt record the parts he completely messed up LOL

semi

✧ before going out with you, snaps you a pic of his casual outfit like:

✧ semi: “does this look ok”

✧ you: “babe you look great, tendou was just messing with you”

✧ will make unwanted appearances on tendou’s snap and complains to you about them

✧ “i didnt consent to being part of his meme page” and

✧ “okay, but he didn’t only have to share all the moments i messed up--”

✧ also indifferent about streaks but will do them

✧ sometimes sends snaps/streaks indicating he’s practicing his music

✧ when you see these you usually ask him to send you vids or if you can come over n watch

✧ initially is a bit shy about it but he loves what he does and you and knows you’re genuinely interested and supportive so he agrees

✧ secretly rlly enjoys having you as his personal audience

✧ lowkey into asmr, like the soap cutting shit as well as chewing crunchy things

✧ also watches food porn and clips of mukbangs, then can’t resist going on youtube and watching the whole thing

✧ “y/n, can we try this, it looks so good--”

✧ will also often watch oikawa’s stories, especially his ‘ranting hotbox + mukbangs,’ and makes comments about him being an idiot

✧ “this kid he’s talking about is a savage”

✧ but admits they’re quite entertaining

✧ just looks serious in all the selfies you take with him

✧ you: “can you look like you’re enjoying yourself?”

✧ semi: “i look cooler like this tho”

✧ sc memories filled with shenanigans from you and the volleyball team, doodles, and mirror selfies with him experimenting diff looks (you: “tendou, you got him way too concerned about this”)

✧ also enjoys showing off he’s with you, taking a short video of you when you hang out

✧ you: “semi, i look bad right now”

✧ semi: “but you can never look bad”

✧ you: “🥺 bb”

✧ viewers: “aw”

✧ shiratorizawa: “can he be this nice with us LOL”

shirabu

✧ his main mode of communication with you is mostly through the regular messaging app, so he doesn’t use sc too much

✧ also doesn’t care for streaks and is bad at keeping them

✧ will answer to you or his senpais rather soon tho

✧ but lets all his other notifications pile up a bit before finally going thru them

✧ goes through the snaps he receives really fast, spending like 2 seconds each to look at them cuz aint nobody got time for dat

✧ doesn’t even rlly open goshiki’s LOL

✧ you have fun using filters on him and taking videos while he’s just doing his own thing peacefully like studying

✧ it takes him a second to notice and when he finally looks up, he just gives you an exasperated look

✧ cue you cracking up with laughter bc the filter finally shows up on his face

✧ his eyes and mouth are now on mike wazowski

✧ that, or his face becomes so disturbingly moRPhed like an alien

✧ caption: “ken-chan, my future medical man 😍”

✧ “y/n, please, this is like the 7th time in the last 20 minutes--”

✧ finally convinced him to take a study break and hang out with you

✧ which usually consists of snacking and light banter while you lay your head on his lap

✧ and scrolling through snapchat stories and showing him what everyone else is up to and cool things you’re subscribed to

✧ “loooook, dr. miami’s doing another butt job! is this the line of work you’re studying so hard for?”

✧ “no, it’s really not”

✧ is actually very soft with you and likes having the photos and vids for memories

atsumu

✧ sends you snaps where his brother looks bad, captioning it:

✧ “this is evidence that im the hotter twin”

✧ likewise, osamu sends you snaps where atsumu looks even worse

✧ like, the mans passed out, looking rekt and open mouthed, drool seeping into his pillow

✧ osamu: “u still have time to break up with him”

✧ also lucky for you, atsumu also loves to take unflattering photos of you and send them to you randomly at like 2 am

✧ you: “nani tf when did you even take this??”

✧ usually posts a snap while he’s out somewhere like at a match, the gym, outside on a run, a party, or just hanging out with you or his frens

✧ however, makes sure you look good if you show up on his story cuz he wants to show you off

✧ doesn’t really care for streaks, but has a lott

✧ but also has a tON of unopened snaps

✧ is the type to send just a black screen n call it a day, or maybe spice it up by sending a pic of the sexi gym floor (a comeback) w his shoe in the corner

✧ will, however, consistently respond to you and kinda looks forward to ur snaps (secretly hopes you show ur face)

✧ but when you dont:

*in class*

✧ atsumu: *a smirk on his face* “your content’s kinda dry today”

✧ you: *your sexi desk* “my nudez ain’t free, i demand compensation”

✧ atsumu: *grasped his chin in thought, but angled the cam up bc he needa hide his phone in class lolol* “what if i... take you out on a romantic excursion”

✧ you: * your face but with ‘sausage’ filter* “🥵🥵🥵🥵 yessir, what u want”

✧ rlly only wants to have pics of your face wat a closeted sOFTIE

✧ likes to have content on his flashbacks

✧ usually has other social media sources to keep up to date with things

✧ actually rlly digs using sc filters, mostly ones that’ll make him look like a queen

✧ captions a selfie of you two like: “me >>>>>>> y/n”

✧ but nearly everyone who comments on it is like: “i think you flipped the sign, bro 🤥”

✧ judges ppl who are into soap cutting asmr (you will never hear the end of it if you also like it)

a/n: sc kinda dying for me, my use went from suga to an atsumu to like nearly nonexistent LOL

also o gawd i already have ideas here n there for a pt 2 so stay tuned fjxnwfesd hope it takes me less long cuz this one took me fkin foreva LOL

idk y i made semi like mukbangs but i feel like he’d be rlly into them--

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #sugawara x reader #kageyama x reader #oikawa x reader #kenma x reader #akaashi x reader #koganegawa x reader #semi x reader #shirabu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu headcanons

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 5 years

Text

Of Poetry and Valentines

I’ve decided that even though I may not participate in every day of @ineffablehusbandsweek I might as well at least write a story for prompt #1.

1. Valentine’s Day -- (3,400 words)

Chocolate Love-A Cake.

Million Heart Cheesecake.

Mint-To-Be Chocolate Candies.

Some sort of cupcake simply titled Heart of the Batter.

Crowley had been standing in Aziraphale’s favorite bakery for over forty-five minutes. He’d stopped even trying to hold up the queue, which now simply flowed around him

Even the pastries without disgustingly twee names were covered in little frosting hearts and other nonsense. Not to mention all that pink.

“Are you ready to order yet?” asked the girl behind the till, handing yet another customer an absurdly elaborate confection that represented exactly six pounds and thirteen pence worth of I love you.

“Nh,” Crowley said, glancing at the coffee list. The flavors of the month started with Cupid Cappuccino and it went downhill fast from there. “Euh.”

“I’ll give you five more minutes,” she said, with far more chirpy good cheer than was strictly necessary.

The streets of Soho had been transformed. Paper hearts and cupids in every window; massive displays of roses, orchids, tulips and lilies spilled out in front of every shop, regardless of what they sold; even the nearest pub was covered in bright pink garlands and little red fairy lights.

Did no one in this district have even an ounce of self-respect?

Crowley stepped up to the Bentley and groaned. Someone had tied a red heart balloon to the wing mirror of every car on the street. Someone else had stuck little pink animal and flower shapes all over the windscreens.

The Bentley now sported a paper rabbit with Some bunny loves you! scrawled across it, as well as a large paper flower reading:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Here’s a Valentine

Just for you!

He pulled them both off and shredded them to confetti, yet all the tiny pieces still managed to look like little hearts. The balloon he transformed into a pink-and-red football and kicked it as far down the street as he could.

Crowley slammed the door of the Bentley as he climbed in, and angrily shoved one of his favorite Wagner CDs into the player. Of course, what emerged was not the prelude to Das Rheingold but Queen’s “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.”

He slapped the radio off and glared at the dashboard. “Cut that out. I swear to Someone, if you even try and pull that on me today…”

Leaving the threat to hang in the air, he turned the radio back on and skipped to the second song, which was now “March of the Black Queen.”

“Better,” he muttered, and pulled away from the kerb.

Aziraphale had never taken to Valentine’s Day, no more than any other saint’s feast day, in any case. He hadn’t commented at all when, almost six centuries ago, it had been co-opted by certain European courts as a day of romance.

Crowley, on the other hand, dove right into it, reveled in it: the poetry, the elaborate tournaments, the sighing tales of courtly love. He was in his element.

After all, a celebration of love might be considered Heavenly, but a day devoted to pageantry and dramatic empty gestures? With an undercurrent of lust masked by a noble myth of pure adoration? That sounded downright demonic.

At least, that’s what he told Head Office. Humans, as always, did ninety percent of the work. Crowley simply observed and dropped a few well-placed suggestions. The poetry got worse, the eloquent love declarations more empty.

By 1800, the exchange of awful verse and sappy greetings in mid-February had become so entrenched in English society that printers had begun to mass-produce cards for the holiday. By 1835, thousands of Valentines – store bought or handmade – were sent through the post every year.

A few more whispered words into the right ears. In 1840, postal rates across the kingdom dropped, and the first postage stamp was introduced. The next February, four hundred thousand Valentines Day cards were mailed all around the country – and, thanks to the changes in the postal system, they could now be sent anonymously.

On the thirteenth of February, 1841, an envelope was delivered to A.Z. Fell & Co. Bookshop – there was no sender’s address, no salutation, just a number and street name, hastily scribbled. Inside was a simple piece of white card, covered enthusiastically but inexpertly with white lace; pasted in the center, framed by a heart, was a printed image, a bouquet of red roses and blue forget-me-nots. Below, a bit of gold ribbon surrounded a single word: Devotion.

“I don’t know, Angel,” Crowley grumbled when Aziraphale showed it to him. “Could be anyone. Could be one of your customers. Maybe one of them has a thing for rude shopkeepers.”

“I don’t think so,” Aziraphale said, turning the card over to study the pattern of the lace. “There’s something very familiar about it…”

“Familiar?” Crowley demanded sharply.

“I mean, the sender is being very familiar with the recipient. As if they’d known each other a long time.” He ran his finger across the single word. “Perhaps it was misdirected?”

“Nrg.” Crowley shrugged.

In 1842, another envelope arrived. This one held a pre-printed card, a single flower on a pink-and-gold background. A bright red heart, tucked behind a pink ribbon, carried the message:

Paeonia, symbol of happiness sublime

Wilt thou be my Valentine?

More pre-printed cards followed.

In 1843, two birds built a nest, filled with hearts instead of eggs.

In 1846, a couple strolling through a watercolor landscape under the words Valentine Greetings.

In 1849, a little girl in a white dress with a basket of roses, and the words With True Love.

In 1852, the angels started appearing. The first was surrounded by morning glories and gold filigree. Loving Greeting.

1853 brought back the lace and forget-me-nots, surrounding a winged figure wrapped in lace and gauze and little else. With Love and Devotion.

In 1854, a chubby cupid crossed a serene lake in a white-and-gold boat filled with pink roses; a line of white swans bridled with more roses pulled it along. Love’s Message to my Valentine.

“They’re just pre-printed messages,” Crowley pointed out in 1856. “They don’t mean anything. Whoever sent it probably just picked one that looked nice.”

“Oh, no, there’s real feeling behind it, I’m sure. Look at this.” It was the most elaborate yet: white lace, roses, hearts, a dove delivering a heart-covered envelope to a little angel, white ribbon framing a poem, tied in a perfect bow.

Crowley rolled his whole head in an exaggerated gesture. “Trying way too hard,” was all he said.

“Are you jealous?” Aziraphale asked with a grin.

“Jealous? What, that you get sappy misdirected mail? No, I’m fine without.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, studying first Crowley, then the card. “Sixteen years? Without missing one? Surely it must be intentional.”

“Angel, a million of those are sent every year. There has to be some mistakes in all that.”

“Perhaps you’re right…” His eyes ran across the poem one more time.

May this bow of white

Which gives delight

And which I send to you

A token be

Of love divine

Oh, will’t thou be

My Valentine?

“Truly horrible verse,” Crowley muttered. “Does that even scan?”

1857 saw the return of the hand-made cards. Skillfully cut paper, lace, ribbons, flowers – sometimes painted, sometimes embroidered onto linen. Pre-made pieces, painstakingly glued together with endearing imperfection. The messages were short, but hand-written: To My Star. Valentine Greeting. Love Always.

��They have different handwriting,” Crowley pointed out. “Different senders.”

“I suppose,” Aziraphale conceded. “Unless the sender is disguising their handwriting.”

“Wh-what? Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know. But look – all the ribbons are pasted on exactly the same way.”

Crowley squinted at three different cards. “I don’t see it,” he said flatly. “I think it’s your imagination. Do you want a secret admirer?”

“No,” Aziraphale started slowly, glancing at Crowley from the corner of his eyes. “No, on the whole I’d rather have an admirer I knew.”

“Mh. Why do you keep those, anyway?”

“Oh, I love a mystery.” Aziraphale felt the grin slide across his face. “Anonymous cards, mailed to my shop every Valentines Day for almost twenty years? Simply irresistible, wouldn’t you say?”

Crowley, apparently, had nothing at all to say.

In 1862, the poetry returned, pre-printed again but at least somewhat better verse. Around a watercolor that was possibly meant to depict Romeo and Juliet:

I may wander over land and sea

Pass many days away from thee

Yet my heart can never rove

From thee, my own, my love.

Aziraphale professed it was his favorite yet, but Crowley only scowled.

The greatest shock was the card that arrived in 1864.

Aziraphale had not expected anything that year. The envelope sat in his hands, as simple and anonymous as all the others. Inside, a heart-shaped card framing an almost embarrassingly cute cat.

This little kitten,

Valentine,

Has come to ask you

To be mine.

He suddenly realized he had made a grave miscalculation. If these cards were still arriving after…after certain recent developments…that could only mean…

Well. At least Crowley was no longer around to realize what a foolish conclusion he’d jumped to.

Another print arrived in 1865, a young lady holding a tulip to her nose.

Oh! Would I were the flower that sips

The honied kisses from your lips.

My Darling Valentine.

The card tumbled from his trembling fingers.

Why? Why did he even bother opening it? Why did he keep them even now?

Aziraphale grabbed all twenty-five Valentine’s Day cards and thrust them into a box. He found a spot on the highest shelf of the bookcase furthest from the door, tucked the box into a corner so gloomy even he could barely spot it. He was absolutely determined to forget any cards had ever arrived.

The envelope that arrived in 1866 was tucked, unopened, into a thick volume of Greek philosophy and pushed back onto a dusty shelf. Aziraphale swore no matter how many more arrived, he would never look.

But, as if a spell were broken, no more Valentines were delivered after that. And the last one remained unopened for over seventy-five years.

Until, two nights after a certain incident in a church, he found it again, hands shaking from the exertion of the search, from the unnamed emotions racing through him.

The card inside was gold and silver lace, simple yet elegant in a way he hadn’t remembered the others being. There was an earnest charm to the way the edges didn’t quite line up to the white paper underneath. In the center, a printed poem, surrounded by hand-painted flowers in more varieties than Aziraphale could name.

Valentine –

Fain would I guard thee through life’s desert drear

And fling around thee love to soothe and cheer

For thee I live might I but call thee mine

I’d be forever thy own Valentine.

He didn’t know how it was possible, but only one being in all Creation would send such a poem.

Aziraphale sat down on the floor of his shop. The tears he’d been holding in for two days finally began to fall.

After Crowley woke from his extended nap, he was disgusted to find how the holiday had spiraled out of control, how it only grew worse with every passing decade. Chocolates. Jewelry. Mass-market commercialization. It became a million-pound industry, and eventually a billion-pound one. Where once hopeful lovers could send a chintzy greeting card for a few pennies, the fools now spent a week’s pay – or more – on useless trinkets, somehow convinced it would ensure a return of affection.

And the engagements! The diamond rings, the elaborate proposals.

It was an absolute mockery of the cheap, empty exchange of sentiments he had spent so long cultivating. Was nothing sacred?

He was sure the Americans were to blame.

And yet now, when the holiday was devoid even of the anti-meaning Crowley had worked so hard to endow it with, now Aziraphale took notice? Now he began decorating his shop with angels even more absurd than the ones he usually collected? Now he put vases full of dried flowers on every table – roses and carnations and tulips in pink and red and white?

Every year, the traditions grew worse, yet Aziraphale only embraced the holiday more.

The Apocalypse had come and gone. The world had changed. For eight months they’d stood on the cusp of…something.

It was absurd. They each knew how the other felt – there was no denying it at this point – but somehow, after six thousand years, Crowley suddenly couldn’t find a way to say the words. Now it was Aziraphale waiting patiently on him, and if that wasn’t embarrassing, he didn’t know what was.

He just needed the right time. He’d hoped Valentine’s Day could be it.

But here it was, the fourteenth of February, and all Crowley felt was fed up. He couldn’t bring himself to buy the overpriced flowers, the punfully-named treats, even a racy gag gift (of which there was never any shortage in Soho). It just felt…empty.

He walked into the bookshop and prepared to disappoint his angel.

Aziraphale had set up a garland of sorts, too, but not paper flowers or bright red crepe paper. Across the two pillars nearest the door – where no one entering the shop could miss them, let alone Crowley – hanging from a string, were twenty-six Victorian Valentine’s Day cards.

Some were handmade – clumsy and uneven. Some were pre-printed – cheap, mass-produced. All were just a little tacky, but in the light of the shop, they seemed to glow with love.

“Ah! You’re here.” Aziraphale emerged with a pile of 19th-century romance novels, which he proceeded to arrange on the front table, to more easily chase customers away from them. “How do you like my decorating?”

“Oh. Uh. You. You kept those.”

“Naturally.” He didn’t even turn away from his task. “They were sent by someone very important to me.”

Crowley gulped. “You worked that out, then?”

“Yes, dear, in 1843.” Aziraphale chuckled, standing a copy of Wuthering Heights on the top of his display.

“Uh…Nh…” Crowley felt his face getting very warm. “You could have said –”

“I assumed, at the time, this was the beginning of some very elaborate prank on your part, and I was curious to see where it might go.”

“You – you said it was a mystery!”

“Yes, that was me playing along.” Satisfied with his display, Aziraphale turned back. “Now, if we’re finally going to talk about this, I do have a question.”

Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet. No avoiding this, it seemed. “Fine. Right. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but it was…it was too much. Too big.” He looked at the ceiling as he talked, the walls, anywhere but at the angel who was now watching him with rapt attention. “You’d just reject it, and I didn’t want that kind of…y’know. So I just – I devalued what it means to say…that…on Valentine’s Day. Made it cheap and easy and meaningless so that when I told you, maybe it wouldn’t seem so big. Maybe you’d be able to accept it. Or at least maybe the rejection wouldn’t hurt as much.”

Soft footsteps across the floorboards, and Aziraphale’s hand on his cheek, drawing his face back down to meet that blue gaze.

“I know. I worked that out, oh, seventy years ago.”

“You what?”

“Once I understood how you felt, well, it seemed rather obvious. I also know why it never worked.”

Crowley hadn’t felt this completely lost since the night the world had almost ended. He reached up and grasped Aziraphale’s hand for balance. “Please…enlighten me.”

“Crowley, dear. A meaningless bit of frippery bought for a few pennies? A quiet I love you disguised as a joke? That’s not who you are. You need a big, grand show of affection, a blazing banner across the sky, or it won’t ever feel real to you. So even when I told you I liked the cards, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. The holiday was all wrong.”

“Thanks,” Crowley grumbled.

“Well, I was going to say something when you next sent me a card, only you never did. And so I, well, I decided to encourage the humans to, as you say, ‘go bigger.’ I thought you wouldn’t be able to resist a culture of grand romantic gestures. Only I’m not very subtle and it got rather out of hand.”

Behind his glasses, Crowley blinked.

“So…all – all that,” Crowley waved a hand at the window. “All that was you?”

“Oh, yes.” He smiled apologetically, though the bastard had probably never been sorry a day in his life. “The holiday generally, and also more specifically the state of Soho just now. I’ve been rather giddy lately and it seems to have gone contagious.”

Crowley thought of everything the day had come to mean – the heart-shaped sweets, the over-the-top dinners, flowers that cost as much as an outfit, jewelry that cost as much as a car. Piles of gifts of every description, sky-diving marriage proposals, holiday getaways to Paris or Florence or tiny cottages in snow-filled forests.

“Aziraphale,” he laughed, found he couldn’t stop laughing. “Angel! You…you made a whole holiday of big, stupid, over-the-top romantic gestures for me?”

“Only because you started it.” He slipped his arms around Crowley’s neck, pulling them together, resting his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s hips, pressing their bodies close. The words he wanted to say danced on the edge of his tongue, waiting for the right moment. Not yet, not yet. Instead he asked, “Didn’t you have a question?”

“Ah, yes. How did you do it?” Aziraphale pulled back enough to look up at his eyes. “The last three cards arrived while you were asleep.”

“Oh! That’s easy enough.” His hands found their way into Aziraphale’s and, without anyone needing to suggest it out loud, they walked together to the back room and the well-worn sofa, where a bottle of wine waited for them. “I didn’t want to lose my nerve, so I would buy and send the cards five at a time. I gave the post office instructions to mail them one per year. I told myself each time, ‘After the last card, I’ll say it out loud.’ But, well, I always wound up buying more cards.”

Aziaphale froze two steps away from the sofa. “Are you saying you haven’t bought me a Valentine since 1861? This is outrageous.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, flinging himself down and pulling Aziraphale after him. “Have you seen what passes for romantic verse these days? Pathetic. I’m not going to pay…five pounds or whatever it is for that nonsense.”

“Mmm.” Aziraphale shifted to lean against him, flashing another bastard smile. “I suppose the card selection has been disappointing lately. Still, an angel likes a little poetry now and again.”

“Poetry, is it?” Crowley pulled off his glasses and tossed them aside so he could meet that breathtaking blue gaze straight on. Caught one of Aziraphale’s hands and held it to his chest.

Women have loved before as I love now;

At least, in lively chronicles of the past –

Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow

Or Trojan waters by a Spartan mast

Much to their cost invaded – here and there,

Hunting the amorous line, skimming the rest,

I find some woman bearing as I bear

Love like a burning city in the breast.

I think however that of all alive

I only in such utter, ancient way

Do suffer love; in me alone survive

The unregenerate passions of a day

When treacherous queens, with death upon the tread,

Heedless and willful, took their knights to bed.

“Oh,” Aziraphale murmured. “Well, that’s hardly appropriate for a card.”

Crowley tried to raise Aziraphale’s hand to his lips, but discovered he was shaking too much. “It’s – You’re probably right. But it’s how I’ve felt. For a very long time.”

Aziraphale pulled his hand back, then leaned in to softly brush his lips against Crowley’s. Hesitant. Shy. But when he finished, he didn’t pull back. Crowley could feel the trembling of Aziraphale’s breath, mirroring his own.

“I love you, too,” his angel whispered. “I hope you know that.”

-- end --

Inspired by the pastries at my local bakery, and by a conversation with @angel-and-serpent

All the Victorian Valentines described are actual cards (I tried to do all vintage, but some may have been replicas/modern cards in “Victorian” style), slightly altered to be easier to describe. I also changed a word or two where the poetry was especially bad.

The final poem is by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I’ve said many times I default write the Husbands as asexual, but then Crowley goes and picks one of the sexy sonnets, so I guess interpret where things go from there as you see fit. (I’m ace myself and not going to try and deny the power of Millay’s sexy sonnets. Look at that thing. I become 5% more allo and 8% gayer every time I read it.)

#ineffable husbands #good omens fanfiction #good omens prime #Aziraphale #crowley #love confessions #valentines day #ineffable husbands week 2020 #poetry #valentines #Edna St. Vincent Millay #oblivious aziraphale #or is he

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the-goddessfighter · 5 years

Text

Why Ship Batarou? (ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘)

Cover made by @paperficwriter!!

EDITED!!!

This post is made in collaboration with @koeharu <3<3<3

--------------------

I'm tired of people outside heating a ship just to unload some personal anger on people they don't even know.

All those people who have asked the questions:

¨Why you shipping them? ¨

¨Is it even posible? ¨

¨Where is the dynamics of this? ¨

Well, well don’t worry... this is a post dedicated to answering those questions... and also in case someone wants to save energy against a hater.

------------------------

1.- Personality QwQ

¨One of my favorite things about the ship that drew me to it in the first place is their personalities! My initial thought was that in different circumstances, these two would get along since they’re both quite wild characters.” -K

Yeah!, uwu let's see:

-Both are proud and stubborn.

-They don't give up on anything and nobody.

-They are the boys who pretend to be rude and dry but have a big heart (among those firm pectorals 7w7)

-Both are good with children; they would never hurt an innocent civilian.

----------

¨Which led my to my next thought, we don't know much about Badd's outside life but it seems he only has his sister and we KNOW Garou is completely alone so they would both need someone there for them which they can find in each other ¨ -K

Exactly. The phrase "God makes them and they come together" would sound great. Sometime loneliness is a necessary feeling, but in a long time it will end up breaking you.

------------

¨And considering how they have both shown to be protective about things they care about they would be protective towards each other and that’s what really cemented the idea of this ship to me. It’s just so pure hearted but also fun in the different ways it can be explored ^^ ¨ -K

Garou did not have a good childhood, there was no one to share his thoughts even if he onley want to had a good conversation, he was always pointed with a finger and be recriminated.

Then we know that Badd is a protective guy and although many things will drive him out of his mind he is always willing to help, if he finds out about that sad past he would surely have a lot more empathy with Garou. Badd is not stupid (reckless maybe ... but not an idiot), he knew that Garou was lying when he said:

- "I have no time to lose with you".

He could not attack his sister because Garou possesses morality (much more than other heroes), he watched him go for a moment even naive of the situation. Something clearly did not fit and instead of being angry with, he simply let him go and continue with his work. (This point will be taken back later, remember *)

Assuming several things happen end up meeting again, and Badd gives him help, Garou would not forget that, many things have been denied to him but he would certainly be eternally grateful to found someone to give him a helping hand. Badd would then become his beginning, a way to start his life again. It’s that something that keeps us safe, that listens to us, that looks for us. If so, Garou would be under great care and esteem fort something that stays by his side and treats him as an equal: In this case Badd.

Also: Garou saved Zenko, even though he did it "unconsciously"

... The image speaks for itself.

2.- Design UwU

There are people who accuse us by saying that the only reason we have for shipping them is that they are “attractive”…. I'm like ... WTF?!

I mean, put the brain to work before the tongue in move.

Of course they are handsome! Of course they are attractive!! (I'm talking about the manga) to say otherwise would indicate that you need glasses!!! But that is not the point...

Another thing that we loved is the contrast of style baby :D. How saying it… it is as if they were the yin yang, the "perfect complement" for each other. Look in detail please:

@donlemefo draw!

G: Black shoes -B: White shoes (canonically on the manga)

G: White pants -B: Black pants

G: Dark sweatshirt -B: Color sweater

G: White Hair -B: Black Hair

G: Golden eyes -B: Brown eyes

U///U so akHKSASG yesss...

3.- Interactions

(* Returning to the previous point)

I have also heard people say that it is "impossible" that B and G get along again, arguing this: - Why would Garou want to have something to do with the person who almost killed him? And why would Badd talk to someone who beat him up earlier? -

¬_¬ Seriously ... SERIOUSLY?!!! ufff...

Not to make it long I will give the easiest example in the history of anime:

More than 20 years ago nobody, ABSOLUTELY nobody would have imagined that Vegeta would become one of Goku's best friends and his training partner.

So don't come to tell me that it is "impossible" for Garou and Badd to reconcile in the future dude. U-U*

Even YM took the time to make this nice section: This is just for them because in a way Badd once again realized that G was not completely bad.

--------------------- He.. Garou stays with the colored cat and Badd with the white ... coincidence?-------------

.....But there is one more bit ... something that was not seen elsewhere. Badd is not the only one who endured a good fight, of course. But nevertheless it is the one that by default would have won ... or at least leave him very badly injured. What our heart says most for this couple is:

4.- The teaching Badd left to Garou.

Garou learns almost instantly as he fights, but are physical-teachings. I explain:

+ Tank top Master = Brute Force

+ Golden Ball = Predict projectiles

+ Spring Mustache = Tolerate Weapons

+ Watchdog man = Beastly / Wild Movements

+ Mumen Rider = ……. Dodge crazy bike attack? X’D

But Badd is most acclaimed by us for his soul-teaching

Fighting Spirit! <3 HEART EYES MF! <3

Although Garou is a prodigy in what he does, it takes him a long time to understand what Badd told him at the time. He not only understood; He felt it and took it out of one the biggest trouble he got into.

Against a mental power you don't just have to be physically strong, if your spirit and thought is incorruptible… you are unstoppable. (Those who read the webcomic and manga understand what I say)

----------------------NEW EDITED!!!---------

This is the most recent that has come out. Is't not curious? That among all the fights that Garou has had; a "parallel" of his fight with Badd it's made again?

Here, explicitly Darkshine thinks the words that Garou said of Badd back time.

D: ¨His movements actually getting faster? ¨ G: "His swings are getting faster?"

Including a subtle reference to increased power, since Garou is not giving up... just like MB.

Or Murata is doing all this unconsciously ... or really knows perfectly what he does. Remember that what Murata draws has to be made aware from ONE, then ... I will continue waiting for wich will be his next move.

------------------------

It is true that Garou interacted with more characters. But, like many of us, we focus on Badd for a ship. What our sense tells is that there is no other character that "fits" better with him that Badd. They are a good mix ... a good couple.

Comment what do you like about this ship, I would love to read your ideas!

@koeharu @dies-first @neko09oarmy

Finally I want to clarify something very important ... this is for you. That's right ... FOR YOU person who loves to see the world burn. If you do not agree with a ship, there is a nice option to block everything you don't want to see on tumblr. Do not waste your strength to argue with someone, you just look worse than you try to make the ship and its derivatives look bad. -K & T

----------------- I apologize if I get to sound "upset" in the answers, but as people treat me I will treat them---------

#batarou #garou #badd #opm season 2 #why ship them?#<3<3<3 #ajsghfd #the hero hunter #metal bat #garou x metalbat #ship #soo many feelings!!!#tag #i love these boys #batarou4ever!!

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oscar-mildes · 5 years

Note

elvira you know I always see what you're hiding in the tags,, I will always read it if you answer all of them abhsjdbs

nev you asked for this and im going to go thru with it bc im an oversharing idiot like oh you asked me how’s the weather i will tell you about all my trauma instead :D

What do you identify as and what are your pronouns? i’m cis yo i’m she/her. i’m biromantic ace. thats the label i would put on it i guess. i really just refer to myself as gay bc i like pretty boys who look like girls and pretty girls and pretty nb and queer people and basically i just like pretty people ajsfbjf

How did you discover your sexuality, tell your story? theres no story to it. no epiphany or realization. i just always was ok with thinking that girls were pretty and that gay people are cool and it wasnt until recent years that i was like oH SHIT AM I GAY

Have you experienced being misgendered? What happened and how did you overcome it? no i guess bc i’m a girl and id as a girl and have a very obvious girl body

Who was the first person you told, how did they react? i guess my best friend. we’re both very ok with gay shit and we just always made comments about pretty girls and now we’re both pretty gay. i like my big tiddie anime girls and she likes her pretty kpop girl bands

Describe what it was like coming out, what did you feel? i’ve only “come out” to some of my friends. i would NEVER in my LIFE even imagine telling my mom i like girls. shes homophobic Like That

If you’re out, how did your parents/guardians/friends react? uhh see above. my mom, stepdad, family members are all homophobic. hispanics in general are Like That rip. i think my dad would be the most ok with it but he lives in mexico and i dont talk to him often anyway. doesnt matter

What is one question you hate people asking about your sexuality? i hate when people ask me about the ace part. like they have a bigger problem about my not wanting to have sex over the liking girls part tbh. sometimes it’s difficult for me to even describe where i am on the ace spectrum. it’s honestly the more difficult part

Describe the style of clothing that you most often wear. basic nerd. you know those fics like “she dressed in a black t-shirt, skinny jeans, and all star converse” yea that she is me

Who are your favourite lgbt+ ships? ajkfj this is a good question and canon wise i love Ash and Eiji from Banana Fish, Uenoyama and Mafuyu from Given, Nezumi and Shion from No. 6, and Simon and Baz from Carry On. Not canon i love Kurama and Hiei from Yu Yu Hakusho, Izuku and Todoroki from My Hero Academia, and Inosuke and Tanjiro from Demon Slayer. Note how most of them are anime i

What does makeup mean to you? Do you wear any? i dont really wear any bc im lazy. if you like it you do you but idrc for it? except for lipstick i LOVE lipstick i have all the colors. i wear it so it distracts people from the rest of my face

Do you experience dysphoria? If so, how does that affect you? ...no

What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard said about the lgbt+ community? i live in the south so ive heard tons of shit talk about gay people. i dont really have any that stand out. my mom just likes to say that we’re going to hell :D so let’s give em a show ay

What’s your favourite thing about the lgbt+ community? i guess i like how we find solidarity in each other just bc we’re not straight. most of the lgbt+ folks i know are pretty chill about everything

What’s your least favourite thing about the lgbt+ community? terfs but they dont count

Have you ever been to your cities pride event? Why or why not? i live in a small town and i could never sneak out of my house for that bc i still live with my mom so no

Who is your favourite lgbt+ Icon/Advocate/Celebrity? theres so many big celebrities now that id as lgbt+ but im going old school and loving my man, my tumblr url namesake mr Oscar Wilde. my man got put in jail for sodomy

Have you been in a relationship and how did you meet? lmao never bc im mean, ugly, and terrible at talking to people irl. i had a bf in middle school? but bc i was 12 i dont count it

What is your favourite lgbt+ book? Carry On and the sequel Wayward Son. (very anxiously waiting for book 3 Anyway the Wind Blows come on Rainbow Rowell)

Have you ever faced discrimination? What happened? for being gay? no. bc im not really out. ive faced discrimination for being a brown woman tho :)))

Your Favorite lgbt+ movie or show? yall i love gay anime: Given, Banana Fish, No. 6, Yuri on Ice yeee. i dont really watch tv with real people but i think that Brooklyn 99 does a very good job with Holt and Rosa yall im love Rosa

Who are some of your favourite lgbt+ bloggers? theres bloggers??? um idk i love u nev so you count right @why-do-you-pick-flowers

Which lgbt+ slur do you want to reclaim? for a while everyone was mad as hell about “im gay for ___” and idk im gay for everything so thats a “slur” i use for myself

Have you ever gone to a gay bar, or a drag show, how was it? ive never gone omg i’d probably be intimidated as hell like i have a lot of problems just existing so to be existing around very flamboyant and extravagant people like that makes me break into a nervous sweat

How do you self-identify your gender, and what does that mean to you? ive always felt like a girl even tho my mom always said “oh you like boy things??? you should have been born a boy” but like, your likes and dislike dont determine your gender. i like “boy” things and “dress like a boy” but i dont FEEL like a boy. ive never had any desire to become a boy or id as a boy. gender is a social construct fuck society

Are you interested in having children? Why or why not? i have a very complicated relationship with children. babies are ugly and toddlers are annoying but i feel like if i had children i would love them obviously because theyre mine. this is gonna be a weird analogy but like i dislike cats. BUT i have cats. and i love the fuck outta them. so i feel like thatd be me with kids. but im ace so like.... who would even have kids with me. i could not. pregnancy seems like a hassle and adoption is... i have thoughts on that but thats for a different post. also i can see myself being married and not having children OR having kids without a spouse. theres just something complicated about having both??? maybe im just fucked in the head idk bro

What identity advice would you give your younger self? you dont hate girls you like them, dumbass

What do you think of gender roles in relationships? fuck gender roles. get pegged, bros. i also have a very specific dynamic if i ever got into a relationship (which you know. wont happen) but like if i dated a guy i feel like i’d be very top. a MAN telling ME what to do??? fuck that. but if i dated a pretty girl??? top me pls

Anything else you want to share about your experience with gender? i think ive already said too much oh god someone is gonna look at this and be like what the FUCK but like lmao dont be afraid to ask me i apparently have no shame

What is something you wish people know about being lgbt+? it’s scary at first because you think “im not normal” but like pray tell me what is normal. do what makes you happy. fuck society

Why are proud to be lgbt+? i’m comfortable with the people i like. i might not be very confident and i have depression, anxiety, self esteem issues, probs adhd or ocd idfk but at least i know if i see a pretty girl or smth im gonna be like wow that girl is pretty and have no bad thoughts about it. it’s just how it be. after a lot of dissecting my past behavior, ive always been this way. you cant change who you are. just accept it

#asks #nev you asked for this #oversharing??? me??? never #lgbt stuff #im gay yall

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ryuukenden4 · 5 years

Text

Do What Makes You Happy

(Okay fair warning, this is a very long post with some seriously personal stuff in it.)

I know I don't usually open up on here, but I think it's time I finally do it to get it off my chest. This has been a topic I often find myself thinking about. It usually makes me feel really shitty when I do, but I don't ever talk about it with anyone. I think I need to let all of my thoughts air, even if no one listens.

This post is about "cringe culture." Basically, judging someone for something they love. Not criticizing or internally judging, but shaming. This is a topic that sits badly with me on both ends of the spectrum. I both have judged people and been judged, and both sides feel bad.

Let's start off with why I'm even making this post. I've thought for a long time about myself and the stuff I enjoy. I know it isn't normal, and I know a lot of people in my age group can't relate. I love anime, it's been an outlet for me and my weird fantasies (like dragons and swords, not the other kind) for almost 10 years now. Video games are some of my lifeblood even though I guess gamer girls don't exist?? I immensely love making characters, fan and original. Fictional characters are my cornerstones where real people (usually) tend to fall flat. Let me elaborate.

Anime has helped me cope with many difficult things over the years. It helps me connect with family and friends. It gives me a creative outlet for not just drawing and writing, but thinking. Even cliché anime always make me see the world in new ways, and I love it for that. It's helped me develop myself and my style for such a long time that I can't imagine being parted from it any time soon.

From anime especially comes my love of fictional characters. I have always loved them (my first favorite characters were Jim Hawkins and Bilbo Baggins, and I'll never forget that fact about myself), but that love became intensified as I grew older. I don't necessarily see myself in them, but I enjoy getting to know them. It's almost a personal connection with the characters. My favorites are almost always established from their introductions because something with them and me just...clicks. Even if I have no clue who or what they are, there is something there I feel. Like they're an old friend or something. They make me feel not alone, as strange as that sounds. Like for instance, take Mirio, my current muse on here. His sunshiney personality and goofy nature brighten my day. His selfless nature and general goodness make me strive to be a better person. As soon as he was introduced, I knew he was gonna be one of my favorites, I could just tell. He feels like a friend to me, and I really feel a connection with him.

Moving from characters, video games have allowed me to explore new worlds and escape the mundanenss of our own. I'm not trying to sound deep, but having a way to escape this life for a little while is nice. The interactiveness of video games is so wonderful, and it really feels like I'm shedding myself and becoming someone else for a spell. I especially love games that either have an awesome protags who is loveable and you root for them, or ones that you create your own character and save the world.

Which brings me to my last and most sensitive topic; my characters. I have made characters since I was able to. From my warrior cats to my anime side characters all the way up to my completely original ones, my characters have always had an influence on me. Rarely do I make self-inserts, but when I do they are versions of me I wish I was. (My first warrior cat was pretty much me as a cat, I'll admit. And my first anime OC was also loosely based off me.) But I have come so far with them from what I used to do. Now my characters all have their own lives and I'm just telling their stories. Yes this sounds cheesy, but I hear that this is what makes a good character. When you sit down and "chat" with them and they are separate from you. I don't want to say none of my recent characters are like me, because obviously new characters are still forming from MY brain, but I do my best to develop them like functional, separate people and not fictional versions of me. And yes, often I do end up shipping my characters with other characters (my own or canon), but I never make it about me. It's about two fictional characters that are fun to imagine going to see a horror movie or taking a walk or cuddling under the stars.

As much as I love all of this, I'm terrified to talk about my interests with others. This post has been extremely hard to write so far, but I'm forcing myself to do it so I can finally be at peace with my negative thoughts. I find it hard to talk with others for fear of being labeled "weird" or "cringey." And it's not even that I mind their comments, I mind and worry about what they DON'T say. I always get nervous talking about stuff with people because I worry they're silently judging me. And sure, I understand what I do isn't everyone's cup of tea (nor do I expect that literally at all, especially shipping OCs and canon characters). I just worry it actually affects how people view ME as a person from what I like. That's why I hide my interests in my pysche, I try to avoid making others uncomfortable with me, even if I feel uncomfortable hiding myself. It all stems from my lack of self-confidence and fear of being hated. Judging and being judged are very stressful things to undergo, especially for someone not happy with who they are 90% of the time.

I mentioned earlier I've experienced both ends of this. So let me discuss. I had a very judgmental mindset of people for a long time based upon what they liked. I judged people hardcore for liking things that were ridiculous to me. I never said it to them, but my thoughts were mean and malicious. Looking back on myself for that, I find it disgusting, and I'll be the first to say I was wrong. I honestly think my spitefulness stemmed from my own bad experiences I'll describe later. What people like doesn't usually harm me in anyway, and so what makes me the one who dissuades them from doing what they love? I am a devout Christian, and one of my life-changing takeaways from those experiences was to step back and let God be the judge. My judgment ultimately means nothing to someone's life, and so they should be allowed to do as they please and God can decide if it's wrong or right at the end. Again I say, if it makes you happy, DO IT.

On the other end, I have been ridiculed for what I like. It's been little things like disparaging comments from family members or even anon hate (old Tumblr accounts now deactivated). I still remember my worst experience was on a platform called Flipnote Hatena. Basically, you drew little animations, often to music, flipbook-style on your DSi and posted them for others to see. I made a Flipnote for my Spyro fan character (very much a self insert...I was like 10) and Spyro to the song "Listen to Your Heart." I was so proud of my work, and it was my best yet. I posted it, not expecting much, as my stuff wasn't very popular. Then I got a notification for a comment. I was so happy to see what someone said, praising my art. Turns out it was another user telling me I was wrong for shipping my dragon and Spyro because he only loved HER character. She peppered in death threats and told me to kill myself. She proceeded to make Flipnotes about wanting to fight and kill my main avatar (my warrior cat at this point) to prove she deserved Spyro. Obviously I was distraught. I just wanted to share my love for Spyro and what I thought was my best animation, and I got told to die and threatened to be killed all for what I enjoyed doing. I know nothing would have come of it in hindsight, but being a 10 year old, that really scarred me. I caved and deleted my Flipnotes with said characters and never posted them again. I let that person win, and erased a portion of myself from my heart.

This is the event that usually makes me question if what I'm doing is "okay." I get bouts of negative thoughts toward myself and my "weirdness." I find myself wanting to delete all my characters and writings and everything. I tell myself what I'm doing is wrong, and it would make so many people angry and mean if I posted it. And then I tell myself I don't NEED to post it to be happy. I don't need validation on my stuff. I don't need fans of my characters or for people to ship my couples. I just need someone to affirm I'm okay, that I'm not wrong. I need someone to tell me "if it makes you happy, do it." I need to be reminded I'm also a person with feelings that matter. I'm uncomfortable deleting all of my hard work. I'm angry for deleting that character I put hours of research and thought into. I'm mean when I think of someone being so bothered by what a stranger does that they have to verbally abuse them for it. That's why I'm extending that for anyone listening. If you need to hear this, you are valid. If it makes you happy, please do it. Know that someone out there is rooting for you. I am 100% behind you.

That old show you watched with your middle school best friend? Watch it and relive some great memories! That cute idea you have for a scenario between your Naruto OC and Kakashi? Draw it, it's probably super cute! That idea for a for a story based solely upon platonic love and not romantic? Hell yeah, we need more of that content!

Basically, do whatever makes you you. True happiness seems like it's becoming hard to find nowadays, so if you find it, hold onto it. Never change for what you expect people want from you, and that doesn't just extend to hobbies. Be your awesome self. One day, someone will come along who loves what you do too, or will love you for being you. :)

Do what makes you happy.

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stahlop · 5 years

Text

Must Love Dogs

I have been wanting to write the story of how my husband and I met as a CS fic for ages, so I finally started it. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but it's now going to be a short MC. And I wanted to post today because it is has been 14 years exactly since our first date. Thanks @profdanglaisstuff for being my beta.

Also on A03

“I’m done with online dating!” Emma huffed into the phone as she flopped backward onto her bed.

“I swear Mary Margaret, I’m done. There are no good guys to find from dating online. It would be easier to find a guy in a bar like the good old days.” Emma threw her arm over her eyes to block out the light in her room.

“Oh come on, Emma,” Mary Margaret, Emma’s best friend, began, “They haven’t been all bad.”

“Have you lost your memory, Mary Margaret?” Emma asked incredulously. “Do you not remember my descriptions of all the extremely bad dates I’ve been on over the past two years since I started online dating?” Emma set her phone on her bed, pressed the speaker button, and started combing her fingers through her long, blonde hair to put up into a messy bun.

“First there was the guy who only gave one word responses to every question I asked.” She huffed while unzipping her boots and throwing them into her closet from her bed.

“Then there was August who invited me to see his band, then got totally wasted before he was even off stage and hit on every other girl in the bar while he was talking to me.” Off came her socks thrown viciously into the hamper.

“Then that Walsh guy who was totally pretentious about having seen ‘The Vagina Monologues’ but really just wanted to say the word vagina over and over again.’ She wrestled her legs out of the jeans she had been wearing on her date tonight and grabbed her sweats that were haphazardly hanging off the side of her bed. She breathed a sigh of relief to be in much more comfortable clothes.

“This last date couldn’t have been worse than those, Emma.” Mary Margaret said incredulously.

“This guy, Neal, started off well,” Emma said, her voice getting a little muffled as she struggled to get her tight, ribbed shirt off and put on a Boston University sweatshirt instead, “He’s a dental assistant, so that seemed promising. At least it was until he let me know how helpful that was when he got into a fight at a concert last month and had to have his teeth that were knocked out fixed.” Emma angrily stalked into the kitchen and started rummaging through her bottom cabinet for her saucepan.

“Oh, gees!” Mary Margaret complained. “I mean, that doesn’t seem that bad. At least he got his teeth fixed.” she continued trying to make the best out of the situation.

“Oh, it gets worse!” Emma said, grabbing the chocolate discs from inside the freezer and emptying them onto a cutting board sitting on her kitchen counter. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed the milk and poured about a cupful into the saucepan and turned the burner on low heat. “He proceeded to get into details about this fight and how it ended with him getting kicked in the balls and how painful that is.” She now grabbed a knife from the knife block and started vigorously chopping up the chocolate.

“Well…” Mary Margaret started but Emma was too worked up now to let her interrupt.

“So, I made the quip about how childbirth was supposed to be more painful, and he replied with ‘That’s just something women say to get attention!’” she huffed and almost sliced her finger with force she was now cutting the chocolate.

“Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret started again.

“I literally just gaped at him, pulled out a $20 for my meal and drink, and left. And he had the audacity to yell after ‘Can I call you?’” And at that Emma practically threw the knife into the sink.

Emma took several deep breaths awaiting Mary Margaret’s response. It took a few seconds and Emma began to think that they had maybe disconnected. She glanced at the milk on the stove and noticed the small bubbles starting to break the surface and quickly picked up the cutting board and swept the chopped chocolate into the hot milk. Just as she grabbed the wooden spoon from the drawer below to start stirring the chocolate into the milk, Mary Margaret started speaking again.

“Emma, I know you hate it when I wax poetic on love, but you really shouldn’t give up on finding it. I still feel like online dating could work if you find the right guy. I know you have walls from your childhood, but - they may keep out pain; but they also keep out love.” Mary Margaret knew Emma had doubts, but she really didn’t want her friend to give up because of a few bad dates.

Emma was now pouring the hot chocolate into her swan mug and gave a heavy sigh. “Don’t you think all these horrible dates are a sign that I’m just not meant to be with someone? I know you and David found each other on TrueLove.com, but not everyone is you.” Emma placed the saucepan into the sink and quickly ran some water into it. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed the whipped cream and sprayed it onto her hot chocolate. She replaced it back in the fridge then grabbed the cinnamon on the counter and sprinkled some over the whipped cream.

“You do realize David and I didn’t actually meet online. He was on a date with another girl and I was drunk at the bar and I accidentally swiped his credit card thinking it was mine.” Mary Margaret reminded her.

Emma chuckled, her first true expression of happiness this whole disaster of a night, “Yes, but he met her through TrueLove.com, so it’s still because of that dating site that you two met. Just think, if you hadn’t have swiped his card he might have ended up married to that Kathryn chick.”

“God forbid!” Mary Margaret gasped. “Besides, she ended up with Freddie the gym teacher at my school.” Mary Margaret taught fifth grade at the local elementary school. “Turns out after David ditched her to figure out where his credit card had gone, she ran into him at the bar. Apparently, she and Freddie had been high school sweethearts and her father didn’t like him so he sent her to a college out of state to separate them. It was fate that I happened to take David’s card, or she may have never found Freddie again.” Emma sighed and rolled her eyes at the way Mary Margaret sounded so hopeful telling this story. She was always giving hope speeches about finding love.

“Look,” Emma started while blowing on her hot chocolate to cool it down, “I think I just need a break from online dating. It’s exhausting trying to find a good guy on there. I just needed to vent about the awful date. It’s so much easier on Tinder when I know the guy is a creep I get to arrest.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said sternly, “your Tinder dates aren’t dates. That’s you pretending it’s a date to arrest them for skipping bail. It’s not even funny to joke about that.”

Emma had now plopped herself down on her couch and turned the television on to Animal Planet. Pitbulls and Parolees, one of her favorite shows, was on.

“Maybe I should get a dog.” Emma said suddenly. “At least that way I’ll have someone to come home to everyday and someone who loves me unconditionally.”

“I can see I’ve lost you on the dating conversation.” Mary Margaret huffed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, sweetie.’

“Ok, Mary Margaret, talk to you tomorrow.” Emma said distracted by the pitbulls on the television screen. She definitely thought a trip to the local dog shelter might be exactly what she needed.

EKEKEK

Emma didn’t get to the shelter the next day; a skip she’d been tracking for a few weeks suddenly came back into town and she collared him exiting a grocery store of all places, but the day after she definitely made time to go the shelter where Mary Margaret’s husband, David, worked.

“Emma,” David began, “are you sure you understand all that’s involved in caring for a dog?” He looked at her with concern. Emma was notorious for barely taking care of herself, let alone another living creature.

“I think this is what I need, David.” Emma began. “I would rather be caring for someone that needs me than go out looking for someone who just wants to get into my pants. I think this would be good for me.” She finished. David nodded and brought her into the back where the animals were kept.

Emma had been imagining that it would be an almost dungeon-like place with sad looking animals in cages. She was pleasantly surprised to find only a few cages, but mainly large rooms with several happy looking dogs and cats running around playfully. There was even an outdoor area where the dogs could play with volunteers from the shelter.

“Most people just like to look around, see what kind of dog jumps out at them, literally and figuratively. You can take any dogs that you like out to the play area to really get a feel for their energy level.” David said

Emma strolled through the room. Each room window had a paper taped to it that said “Hi! My name is…” with the name of the dog, plus their age, what type of dog they were and any pertinent information a pet owner might need. Emma knew she needed a smaller to medium-sized dog as she lived in an apartment, and she did not want a puppy that she would have to housetrain.

She walked up and down one set of rooms and saw a medium-sized black and white dog looking slightly forlorn. Two other dogs were wrenching a rope chew toy back and forth between them. The dog was laying on a large dog pillow, completely oblivious to what it’s roommates were doing. Emma stopped in front of the window and the dog briefly looked up. Something about it just spoke to her.

“I’d like to take that one outside.” Emma said to David who was a little further back.

“Really?” he asked, “That one has been known to be a little prickly. Doesn’t seem to like people very much.” He said as he got out his keys from his pocket. Emma laughed at the comment, as people tended to say the same thing about her.

“Sounds like the perfect match.”

“She’s some sort of Boston terrier/pit mix from what we can tell.” David said as he grabbed a harness off the wall to put on the dog. “You can have genetic testing done on a dog to find out exactly what the breed background is, just like with people, but unless they have some disease that is breed specific, it’s not really worth it.” He finished fitting the harness on the dog and handed the leash to Emma. “You can take her out to the back playground for about 15 minutes to get a feel for her.”

The dog was ecstatic to be outside. She ran around the fence perimeter about three times before she came over to Emma and gave her a good sniff. Her tail immediately started wagging.

“Smell something you like, huh?” Emma said to the dog. The dog gave her hand a tentative lick. Emma reached over and slowly started scratching behind the dog’s ears. Immediately, one of the back legs came up and started thumping out of the dog’s control.

“Oh, you like that a lot, don’t you pretty girl?” The dog chuffed at her but did not move away.

They continued to bond for the rest of the allotted time, the dog running around, but always coming back to Emma for a scratch or to be petted. David watched from the window. He was surprised at how well this dog liked Emma. She usually acted aloof to any person who tried to play with her. David had never seen her so… overjoyed. And Emma seemed to really be bonding with her too. David had never seen Emma so affectionate with someone before. They really seemed to be the perfect match.

Emma arranged to pick her up the next day. It was only after the dog was put back in the room that Emma noticed the name on the dog’s paper, Aphrodite.

EKEKEK

“So, Emma,” Mary Margaret said through speakerphone as Emma was putting away dishes.

“Uh, oh,” Emma said. She could already tell that Mary Margaret had something up her sleeve from the tone in her voice. It had been two months since she had adopted Aphrodite, or Ditie, as she was prone to calling her (with an occasional Diters when she was being a really good girl), and Mary Margaret had seemed to accept that a dog was all she needed in her life and she did not need a man. “This sounds like what you usually say to me when you’re trying to set me up. You’re not trying to set me up are you?”

Mary Margaret gave a little cluck. “No.” She said almost a little too quickly. “It’s just….” she paused to get the right wording out. “Well, I was reading this article today about online dating,” Emma huffed through the phone, “and I read that there are all these new niche dating sites that are up and coming.”

“What does that mean, Mary Margaret?” Emma asked exasperated that this is where the conversation had gone.

“Well, have you ever considered a pet dating site?” Mary Margaret asked almost meekly.

Emma glanced over her countertop to see Ditie snoozing away in her dog bed, a new one she had bought for her when she had taken her home the day after their initial meeting. Emma smiled contently.

“What is that? Like an online dating site for my dog? She’s been fixed, Mary Margaret, she doesn’t need any other life partners other than me.” Emma walked back over to the dishwasher and grabbed the silverware basket to put away.

“No!” Mary Margaret said over the clinking of the forks, knives, and spoons, “It’s a site for people with pets to meet other people with pets. Niche sites are for people with specific interests. I thought it wouldn’t be bad to possibly meet someone else who also had a dog. Then maybe you could find a boyfriend and Ditie could also have a playmate.” Emma huffed again. Ditie also huffed in her sleep.

“I don’t need to find a man just to socialize my dog, Mary Margaret.”

“I know that, I just thought it might be something to look into. I’m texting you a site I found. Just take a look. Gotta go, bye!” Mary Margaret said brightly, then hung up before Emma could argue any further.

She continued to put away her dishes while Ditie snoozed when a ping came from her phone. It was the text from Mary Margaret as promised.

“Really?” Emma whined when she saw the name of the site, Mustlovedogs.com. She put her phone back down to finish her dishes. She still had some research to do for a skip she knew was still in town and she was hoping to nab the next day. She sat down at her desk, opened her laptop and started researching the leads she had about her skip.

“Ok, the skip has been sighted in these areas recently. He also has an ex who lives not too far from here that might be helpful. It looks like she has a dog, I wonder if she had it when they met. Dammit! Stop thinking about dogs, Emma. Ok, I could scope out the ex’s apartment and see what she’s up to. Maybe she’ll be out walking her dog and I could have Ditie with me and then it would seem natural. Two people with dogs meeting is natural. Dammit! Stop thinking about meeting people with dogs, Emma!” She pushed the laptop away in frustration. She checked the time and saw she’d only been working for about 15 minutes before her mind wandered to that damn website.

“Dammit!” she huffed while pulling her laptop back closer to her and reopening it and entering the website Mary Margaret had sent her.

The website was full of bright pictures of couples with their dogs in various states of happiness: walking in the park, playing fetch, all sleeping in the same bed. Emma rolled her eyes at the obvious happily ever after vibe that was happening on the site. She decided to put in some basic information in the “what she was looking for” section on the website just to see what it would come up with. According to the site, she didn’t need to have a membership to look, just to contact any potential matches she might get. Once she put the information in, she realized just how new the website actually was. On the last site she’d been on she had usually matched to about 30-40 different guys with similar interests. Here she was only matched with eight.

She started scanning through the profiles that had been selected for her. The main format was the same as any other dating site, just a blurb about yourself, your interests and hobbies, but it also had a profile section for your dog.

“That’s cute.” She said out loud, while scanning the first profile. Nothing in particular stood out to her that made her want to contact the guy though.

All the guys seemed standard website dating fare, except that they had dogs, which made them slightly better than most guys Emma supposed. Dogs were excellent judges of character, so she assumed that all these guys were better than the average single guy just for the fact that they had dogs. But no one was really standing out.

It was 11:00 when she got to the eighth and final profile. So far Mary Margaret’s website had been a bust, and she was getting tired. She’d read this last profile, one Killian Jones, and head to . . . holy mother, he was good looking! Dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes, a bit of scruff on his chin. He was leaning, almost nonchalantly, against a boat mast with just the hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. It could look arrogant, but on him it looked almost boyish, even though he was definitely all man. There was no way his profile could match his gorgeousness.

Killian Jones - 34, graphic designer

Originally from London, I moved to the US to go to college (Go Terriers!). I was primarily interested in pursuing an English degree, but even with my superfluous vocabulary, found it utterly pedantic, and not wanting to complete the British stereotype of a stodgy, British, English professor, decided to go into the exciting world of graphic design instead. I currently am the head graphic designer for Boston Tea Party Boat Tours. The sea is my mistress, which essentially means I love to go sailing. I spent many years as a child learning to sail and find it very soothing. A great stress reliever. And, while an affection for sailing the open waters would be nice, is not a deal breaker when it comes to a woman I am wooing. I also enjoy many land activities, including geocaching and drinking rum (I’ve been told I have all the makings of a pirate). Hopefully, being a possible pirate does not put you off of reading the rest of my profile. At least give my dog a chance if my profile scared you a little.

Jolly - 2, Boston Terrier/Pit Mix

Hi! I’m Jolly, short for Jolly Roger, even though I’m a girl. My dad has a thing for Peter Pan and since he didn’t like Wendy or Tiger Lily for a dog, Jolly it is. And I am a jolly dog, so aptly named. I love going out sailing with my dad because I have a cool blue life vest that I get to wear. I also love walking on the beach and rolling in the sand and getting myself so sandy that my dad has to vacuum out his car more than is necessary. I also love going for drives (I call shotgun!) and just going to any place that allows dogs. I’d love for my dad to find me another dog to play with and for him to have another human to play with.

Emma gave out a slight laugh, because of course it was written perfectly. The profile was definitely different from the usual profiles she was used to reading. She also liked that he’d written Jolly’s profile as it were from her perspective, something none of the other men had done on their profiles (and the fact that Jolly was the same mixed breed as Ditie). He just sounded so personable, and someone Emma would actually hang out with . . . or even date.

She looked at the time on her laptop and say that it was just after 11 PM. She had a really good feeling about this guy. One she’d never had with any of her other online dates. She did a quick online search of him and found him on the website for Tea Party Boat Tours as his place of employment. She didn’t find much else, which, in her profession, she always found was a good thing.

“Ok, Emma, you can do this.” she said trying to pep herself up to writing a profile with half as much personality as his.

Emma Swan, 28, Bail Bonds Person

I moved around a lot when I was a kid so I’m from nowhere in particular. I finally decided to put down some roots in Boston around five years ago. As it states above, I am a Bail Bonds Person, which I’ve been doing for the past eight years. I am currently pursuing a criminal justice degree at BU and studying for the Police Academy exam. I am a master of the law so please don’t respond to this profile if you are a felon, have even been a felon, or plan on being a felon. I like taking runs near the water and so does my dog, but I also love just chilling out at home, ordering out, and streaming old 80’s and 90’s movies (Goonies and Hook being two of my favorites).

Aphrodite, 1, Boston Terrier/Pit Mix

My mommy has only been my mommy for about two months, but she has been the best mommy ever! She gives me lots of treats and takes me on lots of walks! I especially love going to dog parks, especially ones that have water. Baths and swimming are my favorite! I don’t get to go swimming much though, as mommy doesn’t know anyone with a pool. But my favorite dog park has a little swimming area for dogs like me. I know my mommy thinks I’m all she needs, but I think human companionship with someone else who also has a dog companion for me would be good.

Emma looked it over. She didn’t want to come off sounding desperate, but she also wanted to match the same playful tone Killian had written his (and Jolly’s) profile with. She just needed pictures of herself and Ditie to add to her profile.

Opening her pictures folder, Emma quickly scrolled through until she found the picture she wanted to use. It was the day she brought Ditie home. David had taken it before she left the shelter. Emma had a big wide smile, her long, blonde hair tied into a loose braid hanging over her shoulder. Ditie was licking her cheek and David managed to snap the picture before she scrunched her face because of Ditie’s tongue practically in her mouth.

Emma uploaded the photo of her and Ditie, and uploaded the whole profile onto the website. Now, to get Mr. Killian Jones to notice it. She had noticed that there was the option of a virtual kiss, kind of like a nudge or poke on some of the other sites she had been on. So she clicked on the virtual kiss option on his website. She let out a big breath of air that she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.

Checking the time again, it was now close to midnight, Emma decided there was nothing else she could do tonight. She closed the laptop and went to get ready for bed.

#cs au ff #cs online dating #cs pet dating

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jeannereames · 5 years

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Happy Birthday to the real Amyntor: Ed Reames

9/11 is a day of mourning in the US. But for me, 9/11 means my father’s birthday. And with Dancing with the Lion: Rise coming out next month--which is dedicated to my father’s memory--I decided I’d post here the tribute to my father that I wrote shortly after his death in February of 2017. My father (and mother) provided the model for Amyntor in the novel. So if you’d like to meet the “real” Amyntor, here he is.

Calvin Edward Reames, c. 1944

As some of you are already aware, my father’s health—physical and mental—has been failing, especially since autumn. In late January, he caught pneumonia and was admitted to the hospital. He never regained conscious awareness and was placed on palliative care. At 3:15pm, Eastern time, February 10, 2017, he died, almost exactly 92 years and 5 months since he entered this world.

Social media has become the communication currency of our time, and supposedly nothing on the Internet ever really disappears. Ergo I want to tell you about my father so HE won’t disappear. This is my own reflection. No one’s life can be understood by any single individual in it. We’re too multifaceted. The father I knew wasn't even the father my brother knew, as we were born almost 18 years apart--he at the beginning of the Baby Boom and me at the tail end. Yet my father raised a writer for a daughter, so I feel the need to eulogize him as I knew him. Others will have other stories, more or less flattering.

Born on the now-infamous date of 9/11, 1924, in Gorham, Jackson County, (Southern) Illinois, he survived the Tri-State Tornado at only 6 months of age. With him in her arms, his mother ran for the railroad tracks and got on the opposite side from the mile-wide monster bearing down on them, then laid her own body over his; the tornado leapt the tracks and spared them. Perhaps that was an omen for a charmed life. On the face of if, his life might not seem particularly charmed, but he survived the Depression, a world war, and mostly made good on the American Dream. He even lived long enough to see his Cubbies win the World Series.

Iva Mae Gregersen Reames & Daddy, 1925

The eldest of 13 children, he grew up in a family who were poor even by Depression-era standards. It made him generous, occasionally foolishly so. Yet if he decided someone was “his” (family or friend), he saw it as his obligation to help. That conviction stemmed less from abstract ethics than from an innate kindness arising out of his recall of what it meant to be in need. Sometimes people say, “Well, I managed …” and expect others to suffer as they had. Daddy could do that, too, but mostly he didn't. If he could prevent someone from suffering, that made him happy. He just wanted a “Thank you.” When he was in the war, he sent virtually his whole paycheque home to his mother each month to help care for his younger brothers and sisters. He kept $5. Yes, $5 went much further then, but as an unmarried corporal in the US army, he made about $65 dollars monthly in 1944. So he kept 1/13th of his income and gave away the rest.

US Army Corporal, 126th AAA Battalion, 1943

That, perhaps better than anything, exemplifies his fundamental nature. It’s in our actions and choices that, I believe, we reveal our true selves.

He liked to laugh, and kid, but never cruelly. For some families, a disparaging jest is meant as back-handed affection, but that wasn’t heard in the house in which I grew up. When I was younger, I was frequently teased because I walked right into comments with potential double meanings. Perhaps one of the values of getting old(er) is that I’ve aged out of being an easy target. Yet I never learned to hear what others said as an opportunity for ribbing because my parents didn’t find that sort of thing funny. My father's sense of humor was devoid of sarcasm, as he thought it mean-spirited. Some of that owed to his own mother, who—to hear him talk about her—should have been beatified immediately upon her death. But I also believe it owed to having lived through real struggle himself.

To his mind, the world is mean enough. He saw no need to make it meaner via our interactions with people about whom we should care. It's partly for that reason, and a basic aversion to drama, that he was a much-desired member of the pastor-parish relations committee at our church in Lakeland, Florida. His presence tended to tamp down exaggerated crises and occasional bouts of flailing (which is actually a bit funny, given his own tendency to worry).

My father had a will of iron, and a quiet ambition easily overlooked. For instance, when he decided to stop smoking, back before I was born, he’d just received a new carton of cigarettes for Christmas. He threw them in the trash and quit cold turkey because he’d decided he was done. He took up a pipe later (I think largely for image), but decided he didn’t want to do that, either, and just put down the pipe one day. That was it.

"The Lineman," Normal Rockwell

When Daddy decided to do something, he did it. “Failure is not an option”: Apollo 13’s motto. Well, the men (and women) who got Apollo 13 home are my father’s generation. When he returned from the war, he was one of millions looking for a job. He tried on several, but finally decided to work for the telephone company because communications seemed like the future. Before the war, he’d wanted to be a pharmacist, yet circumstance had curtailed the college degree required. So he began showing up regularly in the hiring offices of General Telephone Electric (GTE), asking for work. He made himself annoying. But squeaky wheel gets the grease, and finally they sent him north as a telephone lineman … in January … during a blizzard. He was a relatively little guy (wiry, but short), and they doubted he’d last 2 days. They figured it was a good way to get rid of his terrier persistence.

Daddy on right, GTE employee award

He persisted for 40+ years, and retired as a (self-taught) senior engineer in the mid-1980s. Never tell a Reames, "You can’t do that."

The guys who’d worked under him at the end liked him so much, they kept coming to visit him for years after. He had that effect on people, whether at work, at church, or as a ham radio operator ("This is K9RWP calling..."). They sensed he truly cared about them, and responded in kind. He wasn’t a boisterous or especially outgoing person, but he was still an extrovert. He’d strike up conversations with random strangers in lines at store check-outs.

Especially if there was a baby involved.

Daddy & his great-granddaughter, Leila

See, Daddy loved babies. And babies loved Daddy. Maybe as a result of being the eldest of 13, but he could burp them, change a diaper pronto, or make them laugh. He so enjoyed watching little kids, especially as he aged; he’d break into a grin just to see them playing at a distance. He was never among the “Children should be seen and not heard” crowd. To his mind, children should be talked to and played with. They would inherit the earth. When my son was born just a few months after my mother's death, Daddy said, “He’s my little replacement.” At the time, I worried his words were fatalistic. But he went on to survive my mother by almost 20 years, and now, I see his words as an expression of continuity. We are our ancestors.

Daddy, Grandson Ian & Licorice as a kitten

So my son, Ian, is his replacement, in the larger sense. When we look forward, we also look back to where we came from. I tried to insure that Ian got to know his Grandpa, who was there just days after he came home from the hospital after birth, and was there when he graduated from high school, even paid his first bill for books at college. Because that’s who Daddy was. If he didn’t get to attend college himself, he made sure both his kids did, and his grandkids. For him, that was an achievement.

As I said…the success of others, especially friends and family, seemed to Daddy the same as his own.

Yet his generosity and empathy extended beyond just people. Daddy was a cat magnet. We used to joke that if he sat down and there was a cat within 50 feet, pretty soon, that cat would be on his lap. He liked dogs, to be sure, but dogs (and horses) were my mother’s favorites. Daddy liked cats, and they liked him. Dogs are forgiving. They’ll stay with even an abusive owner; but cats leave. They don’t put up with crap. Daddy? Even semi-feral cats trusted him.

Daddy, me, Ian, and a completely random barn cat who decided to adopt him for the day at my aunt’s farm

So while he was raised in a time when animals were tools and food more than family members, and he certainly went hunting from a young age to help put food on the table, I think he, more than my mother, had a soft spot for animals. I remember in the ‘70s, he decided we were going to raise rabbits for food, and bought a pair of does. Well, it didn’t take long for yours truly to make pets not only of the does, but of the first litter of babies. All of them had to go to homes where they’d be pets, not dinner. And while I’d made the pronouncement, it didn’t take much to convince my father. Shooting a wild squirrel for the stew pot (especially when hungry) was one thing; killing the rabbits one fed regularly and took care of was another. So our venture in home-grown meat failed miserably (to, I’m sure, the rabbits’ collective relief). Yet it wasn’t just due to my agitating. I don’t think Daddy could have killed a one of them, even if I hadn’t protested. They had names, after all.

He wasn’t a saint. None of us are. The cliche applies: we're a mix of vices and virtues, like shadows against the backlight of the sun. Age softened some of his, while exacerbating others due to a failing filter. Among other things he did well, Daddy was a champion worrier. He worried about anything you can imagine (and then some). Perhaps that owed to growing up in such an unstable era as the Depression when it seemed anything could happen, but for instance, he would remind me constantly to hold onto handrails while going up and down stairs. It seems trivial, but he genuinely angsted over me falling at home and hurting myself when nobody might find me for days. So I (mostly) hold onto rails, because I hear his voice in my head, telling me to.

The irony, of course, is that he was in much more danger of falling, yet he didn't tend to worry about himself. Before he moved up to be near my brother, I tried to get him to buy one of those Life Alert systems. I even employed the ultimate weapon: his grandson (Ian), to beg. He refused. He’d be fine, because he’s of that generation when all a man should need was himself, a gun, a good job, and a driver's license. And oh, boy, getting him to relinquish that driver's license as he went increasingly blind from macular degeneration was quite the battle, one my poor brother largely had to face when Daddy moved north to Kentucky in his last years. Daddy never did let go of the worrying, though.

He could be impatient, and critical, too, sometimes overly so. I never wanted to sing in front of him because he, like many of his siblings, had an excellent ear and I was, well, usually a little flat. He could hear it, and would say so. But the one he was most critical of was himself, if he failed to live up to his (very high) standards of what he thought he ought to do. Some of that, I lay at the feet of his own father, at least as my mother told it to me. Yet in contrast, as noted earlier, he delighted in the success of others. As a child and young woman I wanted to succeed not because I feared his critique (except about my singing), but because I basked in his happiness when I did well. He could be downright embarrassing in his bragging. If failure, especially his, was not an option, he didn't feel the need to build himself up by tearing down others. He was happy to share the spotlight, or even to applaud from the sidelines--and mean it. Again, maybe that owed to being one of 13, but I think it went deeper, back to his fundamental worldview: “You and me,” not, “Me or you.” He was quietly ambitious, but not especially competitive. Except at cards. Then all bets were off (sometimes literally).

Daddy with Mama, Christmas, c. 1990

One of his most outstanding virtues was his loyalty. For instance, he fell in love with my mother and stayed married to her for 51 years, then never remarried. While it might have been nice for him to remarry, I don't think it was in him; it would have felt like "replacing" her, and to his mind, she had no replacement.

After her death in 1997, I recall going through old pictures of her with him, one from just after the war, which showed them out with friends. Keep in mind that my mother, from childhood until after the birth of my brother, was…pudgy. While on the shorter side, my father was never heavy in his youth. In fact, he got quite buff during WWII: broad-chested and slim-waisted. But as we looked at that picture of my mother next to her friends, he pointed to her with tears in his eyes, and said, "She was the most beautiful of them all." Yup, the "pudgy" girl.

Idalee Brouillette, c. 1944, the picture my father carried during WWII

But he was right: Mama was a stunner. I know that, now, people say I look a lot like her, and I’m honored it’s so. But I was never as pretty as she was, especially in her youth, and I think my father felt bedazzled that this beautiful, black-haired Brouillette girl decided she was going to marry him, and that was the end of it. Her family was better off financially during the Depression, even with Indian blood; they had a farm with a full section, and a car, and enough money for my grandfather to send my mother and her sisters into town to go to school when he thought the teacher at the school on Buttermilk Hill was unqualified. So I suppose you could say Daddy "married up." But to Mama’s mind, she’d won the deal, getting the determined, smart guy.

See, long before they met in person, Mama had gone with her best friend Annie to Gorham High School for a day, visiting. In math class, the teacher put a problem on the board and asked the class to solve it. Only one student could: my father. He got up and wrote the solution on the blackboard, and Mama was enchanted. She asked Annie, “Who is that guy!?”

Some years later, she married that guy.

March 8th, 1946, wedding picture

In many ways, my parents were quite different people. My mother was progressive in thought beyond her time, naturally empathic and perceptive, a bookworm introvert with a steel spine when she needed it and the amazing ability to keep 5+ people’s business in her head without forgetting anything. Everything I know about organization (and I’m pretty good at it), I learned from my mother. My father was conservative, protective, supportive, more intelligent (in sheer IQ), but less emotionally intelligent (EQ), more driven, but less philosophical. Yet they created a unique alchemy of spirit. They didn’t share common interests—Mama loved reading novels, Daddy never read fiction, Mama loved watching murder mysteries, Daddy preferred ball games or the news. Yet they looked out on the world in the same direction, and that’s what mattered.

Ed Reames in high school

In the end, what can I say but that Daddy was the epitome of the Greatest Generation. And now he’s gone. I won’t say we’ll never see their like again, because nobody knows the future. They weren’t perfect—racism was an institutionalized assumption enshrined in segregation, women barely had the vote, LGBTQ wasn’t even talked about—but we, in our current America, could take a page from those who survived abject poverty and economic collapse without government safety nets, then went on to save the world from fascism. They did it not by grand deeds, but by the simple heroism of young men and a few women storming a beach at Normandy or Iwo Jima, a lot of whom never came home. Daddy used to joke that he chased Hitler all over Europe but never caught him.

Daddy, you did catch him. You were part of the men and women who stopped him.

You are my hero. You are the real Captain America.

I’m privileged and grateful to be your daughter, and I love you, forever.

#My 9/11 #The Greatest Generation #Amyntor #Ed Reames #Dancing with the Lion #DwtL #tribute to my father

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phoenixsavant · 6 years

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Jumin’s Route: Day 1

Picking up after the prologue.

Jumin scoffed to himself as he prepared for bed. Zen had made a proper fool of himself. Yoosung could be somewhat excused, given his age and lack of life experience. Zen should have known better than to throw himself at the newcomer though. For all that went, Seven wasn’t exactly reserved either. ��

“I wonder if I should speak to them, Elizabeth,” he murmured to the sleek, white body at the foot of his bed. He sat beside her. “This is all very strange and possibly dangerous. They should exercise a little caution.”

“Mrow?”

“Hmm, you’re right. We won’t find out anything by being too distant. There should be a balance, as in all things. Still, don’t you agree this is highly unusual? What could it mean that she is in Rika’s apartment, and how do we determine if she’s a friend or a threat?”

Elizabeth purred, stretched, and closed her eyes.

“Yes, rest first, and then we shall have answers. You’re quite right.” He reached to turn out his light but was stopped by the sudden ringing of his phone. He picked it up, expecting Assistant Kang, and was surprised to see MC’s name on the display instead.

Surprised, but curious, he answered the call. “Jumin Han speaking.”

“This is MC.”

“My phone has caller ID. But I like the fact that you identified yourself. So, to what do I owe this call?” His own words of caution echoed through his thoughts. He must be careful not to betray any information to this stranger while drawing out whatever he could about her.

When she said she was just wondering what he was doing, he felt vaguely annoyed. Who called someone they did not know, had not properly met, after midnight? He spoke calmly, but clearly, putting her in her place and ensuring that she would understand that he was not someone who would take such calls in the future.

She apologized almost instantly, and he felt bad for basically having scolded another adult. “I should say something positive to her,” he thought. “I admire your courage,” was the best he could find to say about the bold stranger on the phone. Yet, habit was a stronger force than even Jumin Han, and he reverted immediately to reminding her not to call unless there was an emergency.

“That is not how to give feedback. I just did it in reverse. I must resolve this,” his thoughts demanded of him. He added on, “Oh, however, I hope you are not foolish enough to not call me during an emergency just because I said this.”

“Have I become the robot they accuse me of being?” he wondered.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try to be a little more friendly. If MC had been duped into entering Rika’s apartment, she might be feeling frightened right now. Perhaps she had called just to hear another voice, and why wouldn’t she call him before the others? With compassion now guiding him, Jumin quickly made up something to say. “I was thinking about what to do with this wallpaper,” he explained. “Striped wallpapers are better…” He explained how stripes can be better at calming people when they are uneasy, hoping that it might give MC an idea for easing her nerves. Considering that the walls at Rika’s apartment might not have stripes, he offered to have the wallpaper changed for her.

“Yes, I think that will do for now. If MC follows my suggestion, she’ll find something with stripes to look at so that she can feel calmer,” he smiled to himself, glad to have had something worthwhile to offer. “Don’t stay up too late,” he said gently. “Now good night.”

The call ended, he placed the phone back on his nightstand and turned out the light. “Come to bed, Elizabeth,” he called to the dark room.

The softness of Elizabeth’s hair brushed against his arm before she leaned against him, laying as she did every night. She purred softly again, a sound that always ensured sleep would come quickly for him. Tonight, however, his mind replayed a sound he’d heard, a clear note in the cacophony of his life.

“I am MC.”

Morning

Jumin readied himself for work, following his usual routine. Each step served the purpose of preparing him physically and mentally for the long hours he would work. He enjoyed routine, thrived on it even, finding an almost spiritual peace in the series of small rituals.

This morning, though, the routine was disrupted by thoughts of MC’s sudden appearance and the surprise phone call late at night. He showered and wondered if she’d rested well in the strange surroundings at Rika’s apartment. He ate breakfast and wondered if she had anything to eat. He dressed and wondered whether he should check on her.

While feeding Elizabeth, he took out his phone and opened the app. Zen was already in the chat, and it seemed that MC had been through a few times. It seemed Yoosung had spoken before playing LOLOL again, and Assistant Kang had made sure to impart some words of wisdom regarding the role of part coordinator. Zen had, of course, flirted with her, taking the opportunity to see how much MC thought of him and complaining about not having a girlfriend. Yoosung had then complained about the same.

“With those two around, she’s going to take off and we’ll never solve the mystery,” he said to Elizabeth. He shook his head at their desperation. “I can’t imagine what MC must be thinking of all of us after their performances.”

Suddenly, the phone flickered, drawing his eyes back to the chat. MC had arrived.

“Jumin, don’t you have to go to work?” MC asked.

“Hmm, she is perhaps more aware of the realities of life than I imagined her to be,” he considered. “I was about to,” he typed.

Zen annoyed him, though, and so he resorted to the one thing he knew would make the actor complain. He posted a picture of Elizabeth.

MC’s immediate reaction, “Wow! So pretty!” brought a smile to Jumin’s face. Of course Elizabeth was pretty. It was nice to see someone else – someone other than Seven – admit it.

Zen, however, was not about to allow Jumin to speak of Elizabeth without interrupting. When he read Zen’s words about how Jumin treated his employees, he responded by trying to explain that when there’s a business relationship, you don’t expect affection in it. It’s business and nothing more.

“Isn’t it natural to just work as much as you get paid?” MC asked.

“Oh, good for her! So few people truly grasp this simple concept!”

“That is correct,” he replied.

“Elizabeth, dearest, I do think that Zen says some of these things just to have something negative to say about me,” he commented. With a smirk he typed back, “They should be honored to be my slaves. They are probably tears of joy.”

Jumin coughed in surprise at MC’s response.

“I’m pretty sure it’s tears of joy +_+”

“Oh, this could be quite entertaining, Elizabeth. It seems MC understands my sense of humor!” He chuckled audibly as he responded, pressing the joke forward, just to see what she would do.

Zen made it impossible for the playfulness to carry forward and Jumin left the chat, still smiling. MC found Elizabeth attractive – which meant she could see clearly. But she’d joined in on his joke and encouraged it. Had that been deliberate? He would have to find out.

Looking at the clock, he realized his driver was late. With a sigh, he called and found out there had been an accident. Driver Kim was nearby, but unable to get through. Well, such things do happen at times.

With nothing else to do, he sent a message to MC, attempting to complete his original goal and check on her well-being.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” he asked.

Her response did not answer the question but instead commented on how well he took care of himself. Finding it odd, he answered, “Isn’t it expected?”

Seeing that she was in the chat room again, he returned there. He sighed as if someone had just spilled paint on his floors. Seven was in the chat.

Seven was not perhaps Jumin’s favorite person. He was a menace where Elizabeth’s safety was concerned. At least he could speak freely about Elizabeth, and cats in general, when Seven was present. When MC again expressed appreciation for Elizabeth’s beauty, Jumin smiled.

Somehow the conversation switched to Seven’s work. It seemed to Jumin that MC became quieter, as if avoiding interacting with Seven. He tried to suggest that she could trust Seven, but when the hacker started talking about returning to Jumin’s home, he couldn’t help but deliver strict warnings. He liked the young man, but he didn’t trust him not to make trouble. “Not that I think this way without reason.” He wondered if MC would take his advice, or if he should deliver a stronger warning.

Before he could decide, a knock at the door alerted him to the arrival of Driver Kim. Bidding farewell to MC, Jumin once more left the chat and turned to face the day, for which he was now late. As soon as he was in the car though, he found himself sending another message to MC. This time, she agreed even privately that cats were the best animals. She must mean it, and no one who appreciated cats could be bad.

“I’m glad to meet a friend,” he replied sincerely, deciding that whatever else was happening, MC was now a friend, at the least a fellow lover of feline grace and beauty.

Midday

His day at the office dragged more than usual. As his lunch hour arrived, he checked the chat. He’d been thinking about MC all morning, dissatisfied that they’d had to break off their conversation. It was so rare to find someone who truly appreciated cats, and the prospect of finally knowing someone else who felt as he did was exhilarating.

Opening the RFA chat again, Jumin scanned over the logs. Yoosung had complained about V again. He frowned. “I must find a way to get him over this fixation,” he murmured to his empty office.

He saw that Jaehee had also spoken to MC about the party. It was commendable that his assistant showed interest in assuring MC had a clear concept of what to do for the party, even if she should have been working on the reports for his meeting tomorrow morning. Still, it was good to see that MC seemed to be taking her new position seriously. He appreciated people who could handle tasks with competence.

“Hello, Jumin.” MC’s message chimed brightly, and Jumin’s lips tugged into a thoughtful smile. This would make his quiet meal alone much nicer, having her to talk to. He returned the greeting and congratulated her again on joining

“It’s easy to enter, but leaving won’t be so easy.” Jumin frowned at himself as soon as he sent the message. “That will sound threatening. Why did I say that to her?”

Thankfully she didn’t seem to take it as a threat, only asking him why. He tried to think quickly, but only managed to add that MC was in Rika’s apartment with all the confidential information around. With a groan, Jumin changed his approach. Why was he so clumsy when speaking to this person? Was it just because she was new?

“I hope that you’ll take on the task and continue her work without any trouble,” he concluded.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do a good job,” she replied.

“Confidence in her abilities,” he mused. “I hope she’s not over-confident.” His fingers froze as he sent a message without thinking. “If you do a good job…” Blinking at the screen on his phone, Jumin realized that he’d been about to type in something about meeting her. He backed out the message and added, “We’ll get to host parties again. Don’t you want to make memories you’ll never forget?”

“I’d like to do it with you, Jumin.”

His fork froze halfway to his mouth. His eyes widened and he sucked in air suddenly. “No, that can’t be what she means. She hasn’t even met me. She must have misspoken.” He calmed his suddenly racing heartbeat before replying, thankful for the protective veil of the chat room where no one could see any response but the one he crafted.

A glance at the clock on his desk revealed that his lunch hour was rapidly drawing to a close. If he were to finish his meal properly, he would need to put the phone down. His nutritionist had cautioned him many times that he needed to allow himself the eat his meals without work or other distractions so that his body could process the food at maximum capacity.

It didn’t seem right to simply bow out though, so he explained quickly that he would be too busy to be in the chat much, but Jaehee was able to help in his absence. Placing the phone with the screen down, he took up his fork again.

…with you, Jumin

The words rolled through his mind like a stray breeze, stirring places within the mind of Jumin Han that had been disused for so long, they seemed overgrown with cobwebs. He didn’t taste the rest of his meal and drank far more water than usual. For some reason, his throat kept feeling very tight.

Evening

Had there ever been a longer day? Despite leaving for the office late, and closing the door behind him as he turned for home at a reasonable hour, the day had crawled by. As Driver Kim pulled the car into traffic, Jumin tugged his tie loose with a heavy sigh.

“There’s been an accident, sir. I apologize, but we’ll be a bit delayed getting you home tonight.”

“These things happen,” Jumin answered. “Please keep me posted if there is any additional delay.”

Driver Kim nodded and slid the glass partition closed.

Alone in the silence of his car, Jumin found his phone and checked over the notifications. On impulse, he opened the RFA app and called MC. He hadn’t spoken to her since lunch and wasn’t up to the chat room, but he wanted to check on her all the same.

He greeted her politely and offered to take a single question from her, expecting her to have at least one to ask about the RFA or the party.

“How does my voice sound?” MC asked.

Jumin paused, startled at the unexpected query. He smiled, amused at the idea of being asked to review the voice of a stranger. “… Speak again, slowly,” he instructed.

“Ju-min Han,” MC said, slowly, her voice soft as it drew goosebumps across his arms.

He fought back a cough as he replied. “I didn’t expect you to say my name. You’re quite bold for a newcomer. That was a bit of a surprise.” Words tumbled from his lips into the phone as he pulled the first two buttons of his shirt loose. It was terribly stuffy in the car today. Had Driver Kim neglected to turn on the air?

Jumin reigned in his rambling about meetings to add in the answer to the question he’d been asked, expressing that MC’s voice was as nice as Elizabeth’s. He shook his head at himself. What an odd thing to say. It was true, but even so…

“What are you doing?” MC asked.

This was another unexpected moment from the new RFA member. Jumin wasn’t used to people continuing to ask questions after he’d stated that he would only take one. Taken aback he agreed to answer the second question, but cautioned that he would not allow such liberties again.

Having mentioned that MC’s voice was as nice as Elizabeth’s, Jumin found himself missing his furry companion and expressed that he was anxious to get home to see her.

“You talk as if your cat is a person,” MC remarked.

“Of course. Who else do you think I’d treasure so much other than her?” he asked while noting that MC’s voice held no trace of judgement against him for caring so much about Elizabeth. With that consideration, he offered to continue the conversation.

MC asked how old he was, if he was the oldest in the RFA, both simple questions he answered easily. Her voice was more than good, it was quite entrancing if he were to be honest. It wouldn’t do to tell her so, not yet, but he found himself relaxing as they spoke.

Before he knew it, Driver Kim stopped the car and a glance out the window showed that he’d arrived home. As he began to end the call, MC stated that she wished they could continue speaking, and he found himself feeling similarly. “I’ll call you when I have time,” he promised, hanging up his phone as Driver Kim opened the door.

“I am home, Elizabeth,” he called, slipping his shoes off. He felt an unusually pleased smile at the sound of his cat’s voice, calling to him before she appeared from the bedroom. “Hello, my dear. Have you had a good day?”

“Mrow,” she answered, butting her head against his extended palm.

“I have heard a voice that is almost as nice as yours today,” he informed her. “Yours is still better, I can assure you with confidence, but it has surprised me.” With a scratch behind the ears, he rose. “Let’s get your brush, little one.”

This was one of the best parts of the day for Jumin. Drawing the brush through Elizabeth’s soft hair, exactly ten strokes on every side to ensure a healthy coat and skin, soothed even the deepest stresses away. She purred gently beneath his touch. It was as if her contentment spread through him, and he welcomed it.

With Elizabeth brushed, Jumin turned to his dinner. He chuckled when Elizabeth followed his evening grooming by jumping into the chair nearest him and bathing herself thoroughly. “I never do it quite so well as you, is that it?” he asked in amusement.

Evening settled softly over the city, turning the skies to a rainbow of gold and lavender. Jumin opened his phone and saw new emails waiting for responses from the office. With a groan, he skipped past the notifications and opened the RFA chat. As he hoped, MC was there. So was Zen, and Jumin rolled his eyes.

“Do you even know what sentimental means?” he asked. The following emoji made clear that the actor didn’t truly know the meaning of the word, as Jumin suspected.

“I should probably feel bad about this,” he commented to Elizabeth as she settled her back against his thigh. “But honestly, Zen just responds so easily to everything. I can’t seem to resist the urge.”

“It’s because of MC,” Jumin sent. Then he added, “Usually Zen is busy annoying me.”

With a smirk, he saw Zen begin to react. It was just too easy to tease him.

“Is it good that I’m here with you guys?” MC asked.

“Time will tell the net profit,” Jumin answered, calmly calculating his words to prod Zen further.

“If MC can’t handle Rika’s work very well, then she’s good for nothing. Just like Zen.”

He expected, having spoken to her and trusting his ability to read people, MC would know he didn’t think poorly of her. Whether she’d understand he was only tormenting Zen or not, he was unsure, but he didn’t want her to think he had a bad opinion of her.

“I first intend to try my best,” MC assured the two men.

“I wonder if MC will do well…?” Jumin mused. He hoped she would. That would mean having the parties to add a sense of meaning beyond C&R to his life, and a chance to meet her in person. He wondered if she was as easy to look at as her voice had been to listen to.

“If I try my best, then everything will be good.”

“I like the answer.” Jumin smiled warmly at her determined and confident response.

Zen announced he had to go and meet with his director and Jumin noticed that Elizabeth had begun to give him signals that she was ready for her dinner.

“I should go and provide Elizabeth her meal,” he explained.

“Tell your cat hello, Jumin.”

MC’s words made him blink in mild confusion. She hadn’t met Elizabeth, so would it do any good to pass the greeting along? He glanced down at the sleek, white body beside him.

“Hmm. I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try.”

Jumin stretched as he stood, calling Elizabeth to her dinner. He lowered her bowl to the feeding mat and paused. “I know you haven’t met her, but MC has asked that I tell you hello. I feel you’ll meet her someday though, so perhaps you’d like to know that she’s already considerate in regard to you.”

Elizabeth sniffed delicately at her food and looked up as Jumin spoke. “Mau,” she remarked calmly before beginning to eat.

“Hmm, you’re… you’re welcome. I wasn’t sure if you’d appreciate being greeted so by a stranger. I’m happy it pleases you.”

No sooner had Jumin cleared away Elizabeth’s dish than his phone rang. MC was calling him? He smiled and answered the call, being free at the moment. He was unprepared for MC to ask whether he’d had dinner or not. It was not often that anyone thought to ask him about his meals. Still, as she had taken time to call and ask, it was probably best that he make a suggestion for her own meal. With a glance at the freshly washed dish, he recommended salmon, because Elizabeth enjoyed it so much.

“If your palate is just as sophisticated, I’m sure you and I will make fine meal partners,” he commented. “Why did I say that? She’ll think I’m asking her to dinner!”

Seeking an escape, he explained that this was his personal break time and that he didn’t usually take calls at this hour. He ended the call, shaking his head at himself. He’d been polite enough with her, but again he’d offered more than he intended. “I shall merely have to be more aware when speaking to her. My place is only to watch over her and ensure she has what she needs to manage the invitation process for a party, should V decide we will have one.”

His mind wandered back to the point he’d made in the chat, that if there was no party, there would be no reason to have her with the RFA and she would likely be removed from the app. The thought made him frown, though he wasn’t sure why, aside from his own – admittedly unusual – curiosity.

Feeling restless, Jumin decided to go to the gym. It was not his usual time for exercise, but he knew that the physical exertion would calm his mind again. As the treadmill rolled its track beneath his feet, he let his thoughts roam freely.

That V had allowed a stranger, someone who shouldn’t have had access to the RFA app, to remain among them was odd. He hadn’t answered Jumin’s questions, nor had he called. All he’d done was ask Jumin to watch over the newcomer. “To what end?”

Though generally considered distant, Jumin was not a cold man. It seemed cruel to offer friendship and inclusion to someone while also leaving the possibility of removing all of that at a moment’s notice. Besides, wouldn’t it be better for the RFA to hold the parties if it were determined that MC was no threat to the group or its members? Truth be told, he had missed the excitement and the activity that came with the extravagant gatherings. Most parties he attended left him wishing only to be left at home for days, but the RFA parties were different.

“Then what I need to do is ensure that we do hold parties again. If I do that, there won’t be a reason to remove MC, she will have us as friends and we will have our purpose again.” He stepped off the treadmill and called the only person he knew who might object strongly enough to sway V against the idea.

After the third call went to voicemail, Jumin frowned. Jaehee did not typically avoid his calls. This was bothersome. Not that he minded not having to hear the voice that was so tied to the office, but he needed to be certain that she was on board.

Returning to his penthouse, Jumin showered and opened the app again. He’d been in the chat room more today than in recent months, but now he had a mission. Now he was intent on securing MC’s position in the RFA.

Thankfully, his assistant was in the chat, as was MC. Before he could raise the question, Jaehee asked if he’d called earlier. Taking the opening he asked, “I was curious if anyone was against hosting the party again. The person most likely to be against it is Assistant Kang.”

“Why would Jaehee be against it?” MC questioned.

With a chuckle, Jumin typed, “Because she doesn’t want to work.”

As the teasing continued, much to Jaehee’s obvious exasperation, Jumin pressed her for confirmation about the party. He laughed openly at her reason for supporting the parties though, reading her comment that his performance was best when they’d been holding parties. While it was true he’d used the opportunities afforded to create new connections for C&R, he never exactly “gave up” on cat-related projects. How little she knew that he had managed several deals to help his projects come to fruition thanks to the parties.

He let her keep her ideas about what he did with his time. Thinking about the cat-related ventures reminded him, he needed to leave Elizabeth with Jaehee again. Sadly, he needed to leave town for a business trip. Just as he’d alerted Jaehee, his father began calling.

To MC he said, “We will talk later.” He took his father’s call quickly, relieved that he could count on Jaehee to support keeping MC in the RFA.

Jumin and his father were fairly close, as father and son relationships went. Though his father owned C&R, these evening calls were rarely about business. It was his father who had taught him to take time away from work in the evenings and to relax and enjoy life instead of never pausing. Their conversation went much longer than usual, and by the time it ended, Jumin was itching for a shower. He turned his phone off to avoid interruption for the rest of the evening and set about cleaning up and preparing for bed. He would have broken sleep tonight, having to leave early for his trip, and needed to be sure that what sleep he could get would be restful.

As he settled in, Jumin hummed softly to himself and Elizabeth. He was in high spirits tonight, despite the impending business trip. Elizabeth was with him, MC was part of the RFA and he’d secured the most important ally in keeping her there. Anyone who genuinely appreciated cats was worth keeping around.

#mystic messenger #mysme #jumin #jumin han #jumin's route #jumin x mc

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kilesplaysthings · 6 years

Text

IkeSen Custom MC/OC Meme

(just so you know, i’m pulling this straight outta thin air lol it’s late and i’m brainstorming as i fill this out XD)

Hello there, time-traveler / feudal heroine / warlord! What’s your name?

Oh hey there! My name is Ana Hill (I’ve been told I need to work on my Japanese letters - and I probably should be writing this in Japanese too - but hey, what Ieyasu doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?!)

Age? Height?

21! Uh, I guess about 5′3 or so?

What’s your fashion like? [Time travelers – pre & post-wormhole!]

Well, before I pulled a Marty McFly back into the Sengoku, my style was..um..nothing? I dunno, a simple t-shirt and jeans did the job for me. And Converse. Man..I miss my Converse.. Well, at my job I had to wear a nice pantsuit as well. Not too big on skirts, but I liked wearing dresses now and then. Heels were ok, but only for formal occasions. Now that I’m here in the good ol’ 1500s, I like to rock the kimono, if you know what I mean. Though I’ve been seriously considering swiping one of Mitsunari’s..or Ieyasu’s Hakama sometimes (they seem closer to my size, I think). Those look very comfortable!

Where are you from?

Glouchester, Massachusetts (USA)

Feudal era – pros and/ or cons?

Ooh boy, here we go. Pros: It’s quieter here, plus the scenery is beautiful, like the different castles and shrines I’ve seen, not to mention all the nature!! Oh, and no pollution, either!! I get to be up close and personal with a lot of wildlife too, like horses! I’ve learned how to ride one too! Which is something I’ve always wanted to learn! Since I’ve been set up as a Princess I’ve been treated pretty well and everyone is very kind and helpful. And there’s a lot of lovely kimono I’ve been allowed to try on. Cons: Language barrier is worse in this time period. I could get by with speaking Japanese back in the modern day, but here, it’s different.. and I’m completely lost when it comes to reading their alphabet! I had no idea the letters changed over time! Also, they don’t call it the Sengoku era for nothing! It’s one thing to see it in the movies, it’s another thing to hear about and see the real thing. There are some things I don’t think I’ll ever un-see.. As for more lighthearted matters, I do miss wifi, not gonna lie.. and air conditioning... what I wouldn’t give for air conditioning again.....(and tampons but ANYWAYS)

If you’re not in your homeland/time, do you want to go home?

I do miss my grandparents, but also my time was also the time where I had to watch my mom die... so... a little bit of yes and a little bit of no...

What’s your home life like?

I lived with my grandparents, whose parents actually immigrated from Portugal. My dad was of some other nationality, like German or Dutch, I think. He skipped out on us when I was a kid. My mom died in my teens. You know, being able to actually speak a little Portuguese helps with the warlords? At least, with Nobunaga and Hideyoshi. Didn’t realize there were Portuguese merchants that visited Japan back then. The more you know, I guess!

You just got your dream job! What is it? / Or, what’s your line of work?

My line of work WAS being an English teacher in Kyoto. There was a cool exchange program in school that allowed us to go to Japan and I loved it. After that I learned that you could get a job that allowed you to teach English over there. I loved Japan, and I wanted to be a teacher. The rest is history. heh...

Any other hobbies or skills? Do you use them / how do you use them in the Sengoku period?

I’m a big movie buff. American film, French film, Japanese film, Korean film.. name it, I’ll watch it. It’s just a hobby of mine. Nothing very useful for the Sengoku period, though. Watching Kurosawa films does NOT make one a Sengoku scholar, I found. Though it is fun seeing all those warlords baffled at my lame 80s references.

Where is your base of operations? Azuchi Castle? Kasugayama Castle? A pirate ship? Running all over the woods or in a secret monastery? Some other cool place?

Azuchi. Nobunaga and Masamune were names I recognized. And Nobunaga can speak some Portuguese, so I went along with him. Good choice? Bad choice? We’ll see...

How do you feel about killing and violence?

It’s the Sengoku period. It’s just what goes on here. That doesn’t mean I like it, and that it doesn’t scare me half to death, but I just kinda...live with it? I couldn’t kill a person myself, though. Unless maybe in self-defense.

Have you learned to fight? If so, what’s your weapon and/or fighting style of choice?

Fighting kind of scares me. I did agree to learn how to shoot a bow. And Masamune gave me a dagger to protect myself.

What are you fighting for?

To survive? Being a Princess of Azuchi isn’t always safe, I’ve found. Especially when its Lord decides to drag me into battle even though he knows I don’t know a thing about fighting??!!

What are your feelings about authority?

Hey man, I don’t like dictators, but I come from a different time period. I can’t just assume that people are gonna understand or agree with the morals that I’m used to. If someone is pointing a sword or a pistol in my face, I’m not gonna act stupid and be disrespectful, you know? There’s a time and a place for things.

How do you handle someone invading your personal space?

If it’s someone I know and am close with, I don’t mind it at all! But if they’re a stranger, I get uncomfortable.

…do you invade people’s personal space?

I wouldn’t say so, unless, again, if you’re someone I am close with.

Are you more open, or more reserved? Are you secretive?

I tend to be more on the open side. I can keep a secret, though, if need be (though it depends on if I think its something that should be kept secret).

Is this the first time you’ve been truly in love?

With a real person that I actually know? Yes...

What’s your style as a lover? (interpret this as innocently or not-innocently as you please ;) )

I can be a bit of a cuddler. Again, if I know you, I like to be close. Kissing is..yes. I like it.. I also like to play with hair and have mine played with. Honestly, just snuggling close to someone and talking about anything and everything is a perfect way to spend an afternoon for me. I’m not too complicated. I grew up in a small house where we shared everything. I’m used to simple things and am easy to please.

What are your favorite ways for someone to show you love?

Simple, everyday things please me. A nice comment, a random hug or kiss, a sweet gesture; just something that shows they were thinking of me... I grew up being taught that family is very important, so knowing that I am wanted and that I can be a part of someone else’s family would be a wonderful thing.

Do you use a petname or endearments for your lover(s)?

Hmmmm...maybe? When I was little, my grandfather once said my grandmother was fofo, which means cute or soft. Maybe I’d call him that...

How do you feel about…

Nobunaga? Weird. A mix of scary, funny, childish, and admirable all rolled up into that...admittedly attractive...mountain of a man. Good conversationalist too. It’s extremely entertaining telling him all of the stories from movies and books back at home.

Hideyoshi? Scary at first, but super sweet once he got used to me. Very helpful and considerate. I’m slowly but surely winding him down and helping him chill out about Nobunaga sneaking out to get candy (because I want some of my own, darn it!!!)

Masamune? Also Scary. But man can he cook! Also he has a PET TIGER. One of these days, im stealing Shogetsu and keeping him for myself!

Ieyasu? Porcupine. Also a good teacher, but super strict! Gave me a real appreciation for herbal medicines.

Mitsunari? He’s SO CUTE? Literally, the cutest person I’ve ever seen?? Good study buddy, too. He’s helping me learn the language better and I’m teaching him English!

Mitsuhide? Scary. But cool. But scary. But funny. I can’t tell you how many times he’s made fun of the way I’ve stared at him since we’ve met.

Shingen? Hot. Too hot. Dangerous. gotta keep your eye on that one. May or may not have imagined him in a suit.

Kenshin? He’s got..two different colored eyes? Like a cat? Intimidating as all get-out. All he thinks about is war. Needs a hobby like stamp collecting. I want to touch his fluffy haori.

Yukimura? Reminds me of a guy I knew in school. Kind of a jock, but not the kind that has a way with the ladies. Lovable but awkward. That kind of guy. He’s funny when he’s with Sasuke though. Hilarious to tease too. He called me an enchantress one time and I tried to sing that one song from Hocus Pocus to him. Didn’t go well.

Sasuke? Bestest pal ever. Would 100% time travel with him again. We have so many inside jokes we could write a book. (omg we should do that.. gotta remind myself to tell him that next time I see him!!) It’s a shame he lives so far away.

Kennyo? A warrior monk who wants to kill but also loves animals? Doesn’t compute. If only I could get him to a therapist...

Motonari? I’m gonna teach him the “Pirates Life for Me” song one of these days...that is, if he doesn’t try to kill me or kidnap me or something first...

Any other friends/notables?

I did have some friends when I was teaching English, yes. I also got along with my students pretty well too. Mostly, it’s my grandparents I worry about while I’m stuck here...

Freestyle! Tell us anything else you’d like to share!

I have a massive sweet tooth like big man Nobunaga here. Hideyoshi has accused me of encouraging his addiction.. it’s true, sadly. Portuguese merchants are my best friends and I’ve haggled them enough that I get some of their delicacies for lower prices. I’m becoming Nobunaga’s best friend because of this, I think. My name might as well be Lucky Charm. Shingen may or may not have recruited me to his sweet dumpling team though. Those are super good...

*goes to think about all the sweets she misses*

Thanks for introducing yourself! ♡

(you rock, @nyktoon-ikemenlove !)

#well i did it #its silly but i did it #ikesen really would be one big comedy if i wrote it haha #also i learned some things about portugal because of this so yay!#ikesen #ikesen oc #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku oc meme

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cferasure-moved · 6 years

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Another Munday Prompt Except This Was Made On a Sunday Because I’m a Rebel

Remember to repost, not reblog!

Name: Ray // Rayne.

Pronouns: He/Him.

Selectivity: Selective, because I have a somewhat busy life and wouldn’t get much done otherwise. Also because I have zero tolerance for bullshit.

Favorite animal: Bats, foxes, cats.

Favorite muse you’ve had so far ever: Outside of certain OCs, because while they’ll always be my babies, that wouldn’t be telling anyone here much... Back in the day, I wrote Beyon/d Birthda/y in the Death N/ote fandom. Honestly, he’ll always be an old favorite, even though I don’t have that blog anymore. I had a great time, and I’ve got a few damn good memories from those days.

Muse you kinda wanna pick up: I have a Todoroki that’s a Work In Progress right now, because what’s self control?? And I’m going to be making a Shigaraki after that, because... because I hate myself, apparently. I don’t have an excuse here.

Most identifiable fictional character: For me, Karma from A/ssassinatio/n C/lassroo/m, honestly. A quick, easy-to-ignite temper, but one that mostly stems from not knowing how to properly deal with or convey his emotions? Check. Parents that probably love him at the end of the day, but have proven to be absent and are rather distant with him, at most times? Parental issues stemming directly from that distance, among other things? Check. A failure complex to the point that he doesn’t know how to cope with it? Check. Being an outcast and being well fucking aware of it, and lashing out more due to that? Check. Rebellious, ‘gives no fucks’ attitude to mask a crippling desire to succeed? Check. I could carry on, but yeah.

What color your aura is/think it is: I’ve always imagined it’d be Red, but I don’t know much about the subject.

Personality stuff you agree with (astrology, mbti, Hogwarts house, etc be as specific as you want!): These tend to be fairly accurate when it comes to myself, at least. Zodiac & Moral Alignment, mostly.

Do you think you’re a good driver: I have driven three times in my entire life, thus far. So, no.

Favorite minor discourse (pineapple on pizza, what color is the dress, etc): I actually don’t pay much attention to these, despite finding them vaguely amusing at times. If anyone else remembers the damned milk discourse? That.

Favorite vine and/or meme: I never vined, honestly. Favorite meme is the ‘Alexa Play’ meme, though - it’s fucking hilarious.

Why did you choose this muse: From moment one, I absolutely adored the character and was vaguely considering it. I made the mistake of bringing it up to my partner, they encouraged me, and now here we are!

Favorite rp memory: Meeting my current partner ( @floatiisms ) through RP is always going to be the major highlight of it all, but outside of that? It’s honestly all about the ‘little things’ with me. People messaging me after I post a reply to scream about our thread/s, someone commenting on a drabble I wrote, people ‘liking’ my threads/ask responses ‘cause they saw it on their dash & appreciated it. Shit like that.

Favorite thing you’ve written, in rp or not: There’s this one currently unfinished, unposted, really long drabble that I wrote for one of my OCs. It’s been my brain child for like, months, and I haven’t got the chance to finish writing it all out, but that’s a major favorite when it comes to my writing right now. Outside of that? A couple specific poems that I’ve written over the years. ( If anyone ever wants a link to my dA, where those are posted, let me know? )

A line/lyrics/quote/etc you like or that means a lot to you:

Where are the people that accused me? The ones who beat me down and bruised me? They hide just out of sight, can't face me in the light. They'll return, but I'll be stronger...

God, I want to dream again. Take me where I've never been. I want to go there; this time I'm not scared. Now I am UNBREAKABLE, it's unmistakable. No one can touch me. Nothing can STOP ME. Give a shout-out to someone: I’m not exceptionally active in this fandom yet and, due to that, don’t honestly have many people to shout-out here. But that said? Consider this a shout-out to the darling who tagged me - you fucking rock, man, and it’s been great getting to know you so far!

Tagged by: @steelhardpecs

Tagging: Any mutuals that haven’t done this yet ♥

#( 𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝘾𝙖𝙩 𝙉𝙖𝙥𝙨 ⁞ Tag Games )#( 𝙊𝙪𝙩 𝙊𝙛 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙨 ⁞ OOC )#( Mun Things. )

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shotgunsandstars · 7 years

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Sealed with A Bow (R76 modern AU)

For @plaguebruises for the @r76secretsanta . Bit later than I wanted to post it but here it isssss!!

I went with the Modern ‘R76 au where they're doing something completely ridiculous, but totally mundane’ prompt. And well... I did my best! Mundane and ridiculous don't really go hand and hand but I hope you enjoy it!

If you liked it a reblog is super appreciated! It goes way further than a like. Or a comment on AO3!

Read on AO3

Gabriel came home to an empty house. That was weird. “Jack?” he called as he stepped inside and was leafing through the mail. A lot of junk and two bills: his favorite. No answer. “Jack!” he called again. Jack didn’t have a car, the bike was in on the curb, and the guy had the day off today. Where the hell was he? Where the hell could he have gone? Gabriel looked forward to Jack having the day off since he cooked dinner those nights like Gabriel did his days off and when they both worked they ordered out. They ordered out… probably too much honestly.

He put the junk mail on the counter, his backpack on the chair at the dinner table and went to check the bedroom. Maybe he was taking a nap? No Jack there either. Gabriel pulled out his phone and texted him. Where the hell was his useless husband? While he waited for a reply he took off his uniform and threw it into the laundry basket to go take a shower. He kept one ear open for the text sounder but didn’t hear it. Despite that, he had a couple texts when he came out, two from Jack and one from Ana of all people. Ana’s was not totally reassuring, ‘I had nothing to do with it’. What was Jack up to? Jack’s were surprisingly reassuring, ‘Went out for a walk. Be home soon’ and then ‘I got us a reservation at a nice place tonight. Wear a buttoned shirt’ and that was it.

What did Ana’s mean? It wasn’t like Jack could surprise him with an engagement a second time like the last time Ana had made vague un-reassuring texts at him. So then what was Jack up to? Maybe it was just the fancy dinner. Gabriel didn’t mind fancy dinners. He did mind spending a lot of money on fancy dinners. Jack better not have gotten them a reservation at some swanky place that Gabriel was going to get annoyed at the bill about. Just because they were both finally pretty financially stable didn’t mean that Gabriel liked blowing money on extravagant things.

He scrutinized the texts a bit before deciding they were mostly harmless. Jack hadn’t said to wear a tie so it wasn’t that nice of a place. Gabriel finished drying off and put on a pair of pants and a crisp, black, button-down with red buttons because he like a little drama in his boring shirts. Then he went and sat on the couch and watched some Netflix while he waited for Jack to come home.

It took a surprising while. Half an hour. Then Jack opened the door. “Honey I’m hommme~” he announced. “Miss me?”

“Like a toothache,” Gabriel said but smiled when Jack came over behind him and kissed him on the cheek. “How was your walk?”

There was a weird hesitation or confused silence, “Oh, it was good,” Jack said. “You know, just a walk. Saw some trees and some dogs— a bunch of dogs. Did you know there’s a guy who lives down the block who owns a wolfhound?” Jack asked even as he climbed over the back of the couch to flop down next to Gabriel.

“Really? I had no idea,” Gabriel said, mostly humoring. Gabriel wasn’t a big dog person. Sure dogs were cool but they were so needy and needed to be entertained all the time. Sort of like his Jack actually. Maybe he was a dog person. Either way, he preferred cats. He’d grown up owning cats. But they couldn’t have cats because Jack was allergic. It had honestly almost been a deal breaker for Gabriel when he found out his new boyfriend was allergic to cats a few years ago but Jack was worth the sacrifice.

“Yeah. But anyway, you’re wearing that out?”

“Yeah? Is there something wrong with it?”

“No! It looks nice. You look hot,” Jack assured him.

“You say that regardless of what clothes I’m wearing or if I’m wearing any,” Gabriel said, giving him a look, a smirk on his lips.

“Oh so you don’t like me stating the obvious then? Okay, gotcha,” and Jack gave him a heavy-handed wink. “I’m going to go clean up, change clothes, and we’ll get going.”

“Okay,” Gabriel said. Before Jack got up Gabriel grabbed him by the front of his white t-shirt and leaned forward to press their mouths together. “You’re pretty hot too,” he said with a wink.

“Ahhhhh— I am,” Jack stammered.

“Go get dressed,” Gabriel said and Jack practically stumbled off the couch. “You’re a god damn disaster, you know that?” Gabriel asked him.

“You’re the one who married me,” Jack called back as he went to their room.

Jack had him there. Gabriel couldn’t get the last word in on that one because yeah, he’d signed up for this. He continued watching Netflix while Jack fussed around in the bedroom and came out a short while later. He came around to the front of the couch and Gabriel looked him up and down like he was the best steak he’d ever seen. “Wow, a shirt without a stain on it, I’m impressed,” Gabriel said. But really he did enjoy the way Jack’s chest and arms filled out his shirt.

Jack scoffed. “You’re such a sweetheart you know? Just the nicest little baby-faced grump I’ve ever met,” and he smooshed Gabriel’s cheeks a little. Gabriel batted them away playfully. “Ready to go?”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Gabriel said.

“Okay, then let’s go,” he grabbed Gabriel’s hand and pulled him to his feet. Jack fussed with his shirt a little and Gabriel returned the favor and brushed some of Jack’s blonde hair back so it lay more neatly on his head.

“You almost look presentable now,” Gabriel teased him.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, tough guy. Let’s go,” he headed for the door and Gabriel followed him. On the drive to the place Jack told him about all the other dogs other than the wolfhound he saw on his walk. It was… weird. Jack never talked about animals or pets really. He’d had a dog growing up but since Gabriel wasn’t a fan of them never brought up getting one even though he knew Jack really wanted a dog. Like the way Gabriel wanted new Jordan's Jack wanted a dog. Personally, Gabe thought the Jordan's were a better buy, cheaper in the long run for sure. But he was really going in on this dog thing.

When they got to the restaurant Gabriel was pretty sure Jack was trying to butter him up for later tonight or tomorrow to ask if they could adopt a dog. It was a pretty much classic Jack and would explain Ana’s text earlier. That she had nothing to do with it. Meaning Jack had talked at Ana with her just half listening until he’d convinced himself it was a good idea.

It wasn’t a good idea. It was a stupid idea. His husband was an idiot if he thought Gabriel was going to fall for that.

The nice restaurant was nice but not super nice and the food was better than he expected. They talked about anything but working and Jack brought up the fact that with the end of the year around the corner he needed to use up his vacation days before he lost them which reminded Gabriel he had some he needed to use as well. “Do you want to go anywhere?” Gabriel asked him.

“I was thinking we could have a staycation,” Jack said, eating his pasta. “Because traveling is exhausting. That and there’s plenty of stupid tourist shit we could do here we’ve never done.”

“That’s true,” Gabriel said. “When do you wanna do it?”

“Two weeks from now? That way my boss doesn’t bark at me for giving it short notice.”

Gabriel hadn’t imagined the dog pun. “Okay. I’ll do the same,” he nodded. Then he squinted at Jack a little, “Is there something you wanna tell me?” he asked.

“No?” Jack was equally confused and looked even more so with his face stuffed with pasta.

“You sure?”

Jack seemed legitimately unsure. “Did I forget something?” he asked once he’d swallowed. “Our anniversary was in October-

“No. You’re just acting… weird,” he continued to squint at Jack. Either Jack had learned to control his shitty poker face or he really was confused because he stayed the same.

“You’re the one acting weird now,” Jack said, brows raised a little.

“Hmmm,” was all Gabriel said. Then he shrugged. “Okay. I’m probably making something out of nothing,” he went back to his steak.

Once dinner was over they squabbled over the check for a minute before Jack just put his card in the waiter’s hand before Gabriel could give them cash. Jack grinned at him in his best cute grin and Gabriel just rolled his eyes a little at him. Jack had paid last time. As they got back to the car Jack was furiously texting someone. “Who’s that?” Gabriel asked him.

“Ana. She’s freaking out cause Fareeha threw up all over the place, you know how babies are,” he shrugged.

“Oh. Moral support from her bestie huh?” Gabriel grinned as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.

“Yeaaaap,” Jack said proudly. “I just told her to cry onto Reinhardt’s chest, that’d make anyone feel better-“ he was cut off by Gabriel’s surprisingly loud laugh. “It wasn’t that funny,” he scoffed.

“No, but it was stupid!” Gabriel snickered.

The rest of the drive home was uneventful. When they got home Gabriel was content to just flop down on the couch after kicking his shoes off and wasting the rest of the night in front of their TV. Jack joined him, snuggling up against, wiggling until he got Gabriel to do what he wanted and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. They were like that for maybe five minutes when Jack said. “Oh, right, I almost forgot something,” and he levered himself out of the couch. Gabriel watched him go curiously. He was still thinking about Jack trying to butter him up about asking to adopt a dog with the nice dinner and all the dog talk. Gabriel waited for Jack to come back but he didn’t.

“Jack?” Gabriel called. “Jack you die or something cause I’m not avenging your dumb ass.”

“I’m alive,” Jack called back. “Will you come here?”

Gabriel got up slowly. What was he doing? He was reminded of Ana’s text, that she had nothing to do with it. Fuck. What if Jack had just gotten a puppy or something? Gabriel would fucking die. Jack might too honestly. He remembered Jack’s mom telling Gabriel about how Jack used to just bring home stray dogs sometimes or that he one time had a fucking deer follow him home because he’d made friends with it for a few days after school. Or growing up he’d had birds just eating out of his hands or he could always found someone’s dog when they lost it or it ran away. His husband was a god damn Disney Princess in his youth apparently. Gabriel was surprisingly nervous as he went into the bedroom. He knew Jack had done something and he wasn’t sure he was actually, really, strong enough to tell Jack no they weren’t keeping it if he had just brought home a dog or puppy from the pound.

There were some gift-wrapped boxes on the bed. What? “Everything okay in here?” Gabriel asked him.

“Remembered you said not to get you a Christmas present?”

“Yeah?” Gabriel said slowly. Mainly because Jack had gotten him a really expensive anniversary present for their second anniversary and he didn’t want Jack to make himself broke buying Gabriel gifts.

“Well… I did anyway,” Jack said with a big grin. “It’s just a bit early.”

“Uh???” Gabriel was a bit paralyzed. What was going on? What the hell were all those boxes? This was exactly what Ana had said she wasn’t a part of. Meaning she absolutely was a part of it. He could trust none of his friends apparently.

“Here,” Jack handed him a box. It was wrapped too nicely for Jack’s dumb hands to have done. So that meant Ana had wrapped it and brought it over.

“I really hope this isn’t what I’m worried it is,” Gabriel said. The box wasn’t that heavy but was bottom heavy.

Jack just grinned at him. “And what do you think that is?” he asked, batting his stupid, short, nearly invisible, eyelashes at Gabriel.

Gabriel just scowled at Jack and held the box one-handed. It was an easy open top. Gabriel flipped it open and nearly dropped the box in surprise. “What!” he practically squeaked.

Gabriel stared into the box. A pair of blue eyes inside a little black fluffball looked back at him. Then it opened it’s little pink mouth and gave a little squeak of a meow at him. A kitten! There was a kitten in the box! Holy shit! Gabriel nearly dropped the box in excitement again. Instead he put the box down very gently on the bed, grabbed Jack by the face, and littered it and his lips with about ten thousand kisses that ended in a passionate kiss on the mouth that by the end Jack was nearly about to melt into the floor with a big, stupid, dreamy grin on his face.

“I take it you liked it,” Jack said in a dreamy, blissed out, voice, basically only still standing because Gabriel was holding onto his face.

Gabriel chuckled. “Yeah,” he pressed another kiss lightly to Jack’s lips. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeaaaaaah,” Jack said still all dopey and in love.

Chuckling Gabriel let go of Jack and his husband swayed a little to regain his footing now that Gabriel wasn’t grounding him. He went back and checked the box again and sure enough, the kitten was still in it. The kitten looked up at him and Gabriel gently picked them up. They were so small they easily fit into Gabriel’s hands. It was probably only about twelve weeks old so it was so small and cute and upon closer inspection, Gabriel saw it was slightly weird shaped. Its legs were super short for starters and had a bright red bow tied gently around its neck. They mewed at him again and Gabriel realized his face hurt because he was smiling so hard.

Jack finally regained some level of dignity he had and straightened up. “Merry early Christmas, babe,” he said and kissed Gabriel on the cheek.

Then Gabriel remembered, “You’re allergic to cats,” he said.

“Not deathly allergic, I can just take some allergy meds and I’ll be fine,” Jack shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

“I told you not to get me anything for Christmas,” Gabriel said.

“Yeah? And? When do I ever actually listen to anything I say?”

“Never,” Gabriel sighed.

“Yeah, exactly. Now stop being such an adult and be excited about your kitten,” Jack said.

“What’s all this other stuff?” Gabriel asked, nodding at the few other wrapped boxes on the bed.

“Open them and find out,” Jack said cheerfully.

Gabriel sat down with a now sort of squirming kitten in his lap and Jack helped him open the other gifts. It wasn’t really anything terribly exciting. A litter box, litter, kitten food, a set of bowels, a collar-

“Oh, so you’re going to match now?” Gabriel asked Jack when he unwrapped the collar. Jack punched him in the arm but his ears were a bit red. Gabriel just grinned at him. “Are they a boy or a girl?”

“A girl. The lady I got her from was glad someone wanted the black one. People never want black cats.”

“Those people are called idiots,” Gabriel said.

Jack also picked up a carrier from behind the bed and the last box had a scratching pad in it. “I didn’t get any toys, I figured you’d want to buy them,” Jack chuckled.

“Yeah,” Gabriel nodded. Then he leaned over and kissed Jack again. “You’re so wonderful. I love you. Thank you,” he said softly.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Jack said and kissed him softly in return. “And they’re gonna stay super small and cute forever. They’re a munchkin.”

“Jacccck,” Gabriel groaned. He knew how expensive munchkins were. At their cheapest, they were a couple hundred dollars.

“Don’t whine at me. The breeder gave me a deal cause they were black. I knew you’d like that one the most and people don’t want black cats. The others were tuxedo or something. She was the only pure black one, for my little goth nerd,” he teased and scritched Gabriel’s beard under the chin.

“What time is it?” Gabriel asked, digging out his phone.

“Like seven,” Jack said.

“Damn.”

“Why?”

“Pet stores are closed-

Jack laughed. “Oh no, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to spoil your little kitty. Aren’t you supposed to make a secluded area for new kittens in new homes?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said. “How’d you know that?”

“I did only a fuck ton of reading okay. Despite what you think I don’t just jump head first into things.”

“Debatable. C’mon let’s go make her a place to sleep in the pantry,” and Gabriel got up, dragging Jack to his feet. The little kitten mewed at him and dug her claws into his shirt but Gabriel hardly noticed too much. Jack gathered up the other gifts and they went to the kitchen and opened the pantry door.

The pantry was distressingly empty because they only cooked maybe four days a week and hardly ever bought groceries. Jack put the carrier down and the bed and filled the litter box while Gabriel put the little kitten on the bed and went to find one of his hoodies. A black one so the hair wouldn’t show up too easily. He found one and a towel and went back to the pantry where Jack was filling a bowl with water in the kitchen. Gabriel put the towel inside the carrier and his hoodie on the ground, half draped over the bed.

“Was Ana in on this?” Gabriel asked Jack as he sat outside of the pantry on the floor.

“Yeah. She was watching them while we were at dinner. Fareeha was not happy Ana had to take the kitty away,” he brought the water dish over and put it in the little room. Without the two of them in there the kitten was very slowly starting to explore.

“Pft, not my fault,” Gabriel said. He knew he needed to leave the kitten alone for the night so it could get used to his smell and its own space but he just wanted to hold it. He knew that wasn’t a good idea either. Cats weren’t like dogs. They needed to get used to thinks slower. Thankfully it wasn’t too cool in the house and the bed was warm and the carrier had the towel in it. Gabriel got up and closed the door. He made a pained noise. “I just wanna pet it,” he whined.

Jack snickered. “Sorry, babe,” Jack said. “You can pet me instead if you want?” he added cheekily.

Gabriel gave him a look then raised one eyebrow. “Now that’s an idea,” and he grinned a little that was almost a smirk. “Why don’t you come with me, huh?” Jack’s grin widened as Gabriel grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the bedroom.

If you liked it a reblog is super appreciated! It goes way further than a like. Or a comment on AO3!

#r76secretsanta #overwatch #r76 #sealed with a bow #fanfiction

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szopenhauer · 4 years

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Do you have a Beatles shirt? why would I? Do you know anyone who is going through a hard time? ... me?... Do you stay up really late, or are you one of the first people asleep? stay up late

Do have any plans for this evening? nope How has this day been for you? sigh... Did you get to sleep in today? nope Is life at all what you expected it to be when you were a kid? pfft The last thing that made you angry? What about sad? no comment Do you think about the way things used to be often? mhm Is there anyone that you would like for things to be the same with? grandma for example What do you feel like right now? ugh... The last text message you recieved says? “Może coś pooglądam” When was the last time you totally freaked out? recently

What did you do in 2020 that you’d never done before? had sex

Did anyone close to you give birth this year? my ex friends

Did anyone close to you die? no one close

What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020? health, money, peace or however to call this state

Did you suffer illness or injury? sadly

What was the best thing you bought? can’t decide

What song will always remind you of 2020? shitload

What do you wish you’d done more of? eat if possible

What do you wish you’d done less of? worry, spend time visiting doctors, paying for meds, suffering, waste of time and money <yadda, yadda, yadda> *wash hands - jk

What did you want and not get? medical help and job

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020? nothing has changed

What kept you sane? internet (music, games, tumblr and such), my gf, dad, sleeping, shopping...

What issue stirred you the most? mine or world problems?

would you ever watch a bullfight? I’m against bull fights would you ever travel to Greece? not interested what sound can you hear right now? sawing wood and washing machine

Do you remember what you wore yesterday? had my blue pants with daisies and SW tee with plaid sleeveles shirt over it What is your favorite kind of fabric? cotton and polyester? Would you consider your voice high, low, or in the middle? childish, weird

When did you first hear of Harry Potter? my elementary school bestie been obsessed with it

How many pictures do you take a month on average? *shrug* Are you the type people should take seriously, or should they think you’re joking most of the time? I’m often joking but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take me srsly at all, you know? What do you think of therapists? useless Do you have a bad temper? do I? What do you think about how around Halloween a lot of people harm black cats? that is a dumb excuse, not that anything gives you right to hurt cats in other situation than protecting yourself/someone from an attack Would you ever go to a sperm bank to get pregnant? creepy Do you have the same initials as anyone else you know? no one I know has initials like I do What do you think of people who use the saying, “Ignorance is bliss” in defense of something? that’s true but we can’t be ignorant all the damn time If a little kid walked up to you and asked, “Are you goth?”, how would you respond? awww thx but I’m not Does it annoy you when people say their heart is “broken”? only when they reffer to crush they never even spoken to once Would you rather hang out with friends, hang out with one close friend, or be alone? be alone Would you know exactly how to help a person if they were choking on something? in theory, I’d try my best What are you listening to? Talor Swift - Love story Have you ever painted one of those “Paint By Numbers” things? several times

What color is your carpet? no carpet in my room

Do you have shower curtains? we don’t

Do you think Oprah is lame? Ellen is

Do you play with dead bugs? *screams and runs away*

What was the last bug you killed? mosquito?

Do you flush trash down the toilet? that can clog the toilet so nope

How many country songs have you heard today? not a single one

How many yellow shoes do you own? 1 pair

Don’t you just love those ‘Axe’ commercials? they’re incredibly stupid and irritating

Did you know that the average human eats 8 total spiders in their sleep? I heard

If you had to switch races, what would you be? asian?

What is your favorite shade of blue? navy?

Have you ever thought about getting a mohawk? in middle school I had this idea for a moment :x

What’s your favorite extinct animal? mammoth, dodo, moa

What’s your favorite eating utensil? tiny forks are cute and wooden spoons are nostalgic

When was the last time your stomach growled in a quiet place? this or last month *awkward*

Have you ever rolled around in wet grass? not wet

Where was the last public bathroom you used located? KFC

Have you ever dipped a guy’s hand in warm water while they were sleeping? I’m not an asshole

Do you ever imagine random people in their underwear? whaaat?

Do you have any asian neighbors? our neighborhood ain’t diverse

Does your grandmother/grandfather use a walker? cane

Do you die without chewing gum?apparently not. I haven’t had gum in years and I’m still here.

Are you glad it’s summer? yasss How many calories would you say you take in a day? fuck off Have you ever pissed outside? more than once Ever not liked someone because of their race? I’m not a racist Are you pregnant? I an asexual lesbian and have period rn... Do you wanna be? no way in hell Do you share a bathroom? with fam Do you hate it? YES Describe your entire family in 3 words. mom, dad, sister Do you shower once daily? yep

Are you by any chance a perfectionist? slightly How would you react if your artwork became famous? wow

Would you turn people into stone if you could? waste of space, who would want to look at those statues? Have you ever cooked a cake over a campfire? (I have, it worked ^_^) it’s possible?! good to know Are there any orange clocks in your house? why orange... Do you put shampoo in your left or right hand? ... left? When you take a drink of something, do you hold your pinky up? often Which shoe do you put on first? whichever What will you eat next? rice or oatmeal? Name something that you have more than 28 of. problems Do you like peas? why not Do you enjoy llamas? yup

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