#and expecting them to turn over a new leaf then being shocked when they don't every single time

[wereh0gz]

I wonder why ppl interpret sonic not jumping at the chance to kill an enemy as him giving "second chances" to bad guys who don't deserve it like eggman

[yesihaveaobsession]

Greatest Love Story

Alastor x angel female reader

Summary: You being an angel and falling for the radio demon is troublesome, and falling for an angel is outlandish. But he tries to convince you to move into the hotel to get away from the angel stuff.

A/n: enjoy <3

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Damn him.

You were seriously falling for the radio demon.. Sure, he and the angels have fallen outs but with you? He seem to separate you from them. You were sweet, kind, and innocent, and he liked you for that. Most of all, he thought you were pretty. Never in his life have he seen someone so attractive. As for you.. Alastor makes you feel safe. For some reason, you don't know if it's because of the soothing static of radio whenever he talked to you. Or if it's the gentleman vibes he gives off. You were indeed falling for the Radio Demon himself.

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

You were in your bedroom where the angels had stayed in heaven, when you heard a knock on your bedroom door, expecting it to be one of the angels you found yourself looking at the deer man himself. Shit. His smile that he always had was on his face as he looked down at you with his crimson eyes. You could've sworn your heart leap in your throat. The mainly red man very much stood out in the all white corridor. You two discussed the consequences both of you getting caught, did that stop the radio demon? Oh definitely not.

You weren't sure how long you were standing there with your eyes open wide for but his radio static voice made you snap out of it.

"May I come in my dear?" Without saying a word you grabbed his claw and drug him into your room, his smile got bigger. You closed and locked the door.. the man was already looking down at you when you turned on your heel to look at him.

"Why are you always in shock when I surprise you with my presence?" Alastor had said. Did he really need you to spell it out? You took a step closer towards the very tall man who much well hovered over you much, causing you to crank your head back to just look at him. You pointed a finger to his stomach..

"You're a demon and I'm a angel.. you're in a place full of angels al.." Your hand soon dropped to your side. Alastor who was clutching his radio staff walked passed you and walked around the all white room, stopping at a plant you had by the window sill and taking a leaf off it.

"Fear not my darling , I will make sure that my presence will remain hidden." He looked from the plant back over to you, then around the room.

"Your room is very... enclosed. I think you'd prefer a bigger room, my dear and i-"

"I'm not leaving Heaven al.." he walked over to you. "But my doe, we both know how you feel about this place. Why not leave it and run off with me back to the depression hole?" You only just stared, although he still had that stupid grin on his face. You saw his eyes soften.. he then placed a hand under your chin. That's all he had to do to change your mind.

"Fine... let's go." Alastor wasted no time. He poofted the two of you back to the hotel that was covered in all red.. it was gonna be a big adjustment, but you were ready for something. To start a new chapter. Whatever It took.

[redheadspark]

hiii 😊 May i request the prompt Person A stealing person B’s sweater/clothes. With benedict bridgerton please 💜

A/N - What a great request for Benedict! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Eureka!

Summary - Benedict never thought he would lend his crush his sweatshirt.

Warnings - Just some fluffiness

Benedict had to stop his painting to look at his work. Something didn't feel right, leaving him to stand with his hands on his hips and his head cocked to the side. It felt off, unlike the other pieces he would paint and sell. This one didn't feel right to him, maybe it was the shade of colors he used or the way he stroked the brush. But his heart wasn't in the right spot with what he wanted, and he was interrupted abruptly by the tapping at the front door.

It sounded urgent.

"Who would be here at this hour?" Another asked from his spot on the couch, placing his newspaper down and walking over to the door. Benedict paused in his work too, placing the brush down and looking across from his art corner in the living room. Was it the landlord? It couldn't be since Anothy was usually on time in turning in the rent. Nor could it be any of their brothers or sisters, it was even late for them and they would call ahead of time.

What he wasn't expecting was you, drenched from the rain and shaking like a leaf with your arms tight around yourself to stay warm.

"Jesus! What happened? Come in!" Anthony said as he ushered you inside. Benedict was shocked to see you, no matter you being his crush for some time after meeting you through Anhony. You were good friends with Kate, Anthony's girlfriend and soon-to-be fiance. Kate could see how Benedict was instantly smitten with you when you commented on modern art as the new frontier in marketing and high society compared to older art. Kate saw it immediately and teased Benedict endlessly when you left to return to your apartment, Benedict blushing red and trying to play it off. But how to he deny it? You were spunky, exceptionally great with your art history, and your smile was enough to make his heart stutter a bit.

But to see you drenched like a wet cat in his home? He never saw that coming.

"I'm so s-s-sorry for coming to your p-p-place," You stuttered as Anthony ushered you into the apartment and closed the door behind you, "My c-car broke down a mile d-down the road and my phone d-died. I n-need to call K-K-Kate and a tow--"

"Take it easy and come sit, please," Anthony said with ease as Benedict went over to get a kettle ready for some tea, "Let me text Kate and have her come over to take you back to your apartment, okay? And we can call a tow truck first thing in the morning to take care of your car,"

"Oh, I don't wanna w-wait for my car until t-tomorrow--" You tried to reason with Anthony, but Benedtic finally spoke up as he walked over to you.

"It's not worth it in the rain, no tow trucks will come. Just wait until tomorrow when the rain stops, we know a guy who works at the auto shop down the street and I can call about your car," He explained, you giving him a genuine smile. He loved that smile, reminding you of springtime and fresh flowers in a vase, filled with joy and serenity.

"Thank you, you're far too kind," You thanked him, Benedict slightly blushing, "I don't mean to interrupt your night,"

"Our night was boring, nothing to apologize for," Benedict told you as he gestured to the spare bathroom, "Go take a shower and I'll get you some clothes to change into while we wait for Kate,"

You thanked him again and waddled to the spare bathroom, closing the door gently behind you and locking it. Once it was Anthony and Benedict again, Anthony eyed his younger brother with a smirk.

"Smooth, Benny. Real smooth," He teased, Benedict glaring at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," He replied with a shrug, walking away to his bedroom to grab some clothes. Anthony chuckled and followed behind Benedict, pulling out his phone to text Kate as he spoke to his brother.

"Kate told me about your little crush on her," Anthony said casually, Benedict whirling around and hushing him. Anthony laughed, "It's obvious to everyone, including mom mind you! Why don't you ask her out finally?"

"Because...because I don't think I'm her type," Benedict explained as he grabbed a pair of sweats and one of his old sweatshirts from college.

"What makes you say that? You're a catch, Benny. And I don't say that to you a whole lot, do I?" Anthony challenged him, Benedict giving him a soft look to see that he was telling the truth. Anthony merely smiled, looking down at his phone with a message coming in.

"Kate will be here in 20 minutes," He explained, closing his phone before he gave Benedict one more smile, "Think about it, Benedict. You two would be great, I swear,"

Anthony walked back to the living room, leaving Benedict there to think about it. He did think about asking you out, maybe taking you to an art gallery or a picnic since you seemed like the kind of person who would love that. But then again, he was still afraid to jump in and be bold, and sometimes that fear got the best of him.

He was going to put it on the back burner for now.

5 minutes later you emerged from the bathroom, wearing your new clothes that Benedict left outside your door. Anthony was back in his room working on some paperwork from his job, leaving Benedict back out in the living room with his painting again as you walked out to see him. Your hair was back and freshly washed, your skin glowing and looking rather calm and the color was back on your lips and cheeks. The sight of you wearing his sweatshirt, the same one that had a few paint stains and one coffee ring on the end near your right hip, it was gut-wrenching, to say the least. Benedict never thought on how beautiful you would look in that garment when he got it for you, and he would never look at it the same way again.

"Thank you again, Benedict," You thanked him, then noticed the painting in front of him and pointed with a curious finger, "Is this a new piece you're working on?"

"Oh," Benedict said, looking at his piece and then back at you, "Oh yes! I'm trying to work on it but it's....it's not right. Something's missing,"

You hummed, walking over to stand next to him and looking at his work with your eyes. Benedict seemed rather nervous to have you stare at his work, he shouldn't since you've seen his work plenty of times. But not during the process of creation, only when it was complete and hanging on the wall. He felt most vulnerable when he was creating, the barriers were down and nothing was judging him when he had the brush in his hand.

"What if you use your fingers?"

Benedict looked at you in shock as you looked back at him with a shrug of your shoulders.

"W-what?" He asked, sounding a bit more high-pitched.

"Use your fingers, not your brush," You explained, then moving your pointed finger to the cured strokes to the left, "I think it would look more natural with your fingers, don't you?"

Benedict nodded his eyes without saying a word, his eyes on you as you were smiling at him. If his crush on you was bad before, now it was a lot worse. But this time, this time he wasn't afraid about it too much. He was tongued tied, yet you still grinned at him as the front door opened and Kate burst into the room.

"Thank God you're okay!" She said to you as she ran over to you and hugged you. Benedict left you and Kate to reunite and talk about what happened, his eyes going back to the half drawn picture and a massive grin was on his face. The idea struck hard and true, almost sideways to have him be knocked over.

Eureka!

He would hang it a few months later at his first professional showcase, with you on his arm as his girlfriend and the inspiration for the piece called Eureka!

The End

Spring Prompt Session

[theringers]

addicted - charles leclerc

summary: you and charles have broken up but an unexpected reconciliation and jealousy leads to some fun

request: Can you do Prompt 100 with Charles? ❤️🥺

prompt: 100) "Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

warnings: NSFW, 18+, sex, public sex lmao shocker

The music blared out of your speaker as you danced around your bathroom. Your apartment had been quiet for days now, something you definitely weren’t used to.

It had been a few weeks since Charles moved out of your shared apartment. It was an emotional breakup, but something that you both eventually decided was best for the two of you.

“I want this to work more than anything, but I think it’s best if we spend some time apart.” You said between tears.

“I don’t want to be apart from you. I love you.”

“I love you too, but this is what we need.”

“If this is going to make you happiest, this is what I want too.”

You recalled the conversation between you two but quickly pushed it out of your mind and focused on your plans tonight.

It was a Friday night and all of your friends were either out of town or busy, but you wanted to have a fun night. You sent a text to a coworker and decided to meet him out at a restaurant downtown.

It was hot and humid and the outdoor restaurant was making your cheeks turn red. Your coworker had gone to the bar to get you two drinks.

“Hey, how have you been?” He asked when he returned.

“I’ve been doing okay,” you hesitated a bit. “Charles and I broke up a few weeks ago and this is my first time coming out since.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. How are you doing?” He was obviously shocked. You and Charles had been together for years.

“I’m doing okay. We needed time apart, it’s just weird getting used to being alone.” You took a sip of your glass of wine and looked around. So many people were on dates tonight.

“I totally understand that. I’m here for you, whatever you need.” He smiled at you.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

You conversed and decided to order some small plates for dinner. It was refreshing to have the company of someone new, even though you missed Charles immensely.

“No fucking way,” you said as a salad leaf almost fell out of your mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

Your eyes focused on the couple a few tables away. “Charles is here, on a date I think?”

“Oh no, we can go somewhere else if it would make you more comfortable.” Your coworker got flustered, trying to make sure you felt okay. His kindness was not overlooked.

“No, it’s okay. This was bound to happen. We live in the same town, a small one at that.” You continued to eat your salad hoping to find something else to get your mind off of this awkward situation.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded and shoved your fork in your mouth laughing. Just your luck.

Charles got up from his table and headed towards the bathroom inside. He was wearing your favorite shorts of his and a black top. You loved when he wore black because it complimented his skin and eyes perfectly. The thought of him dressing up like this for someone else hurt.

“I have to use the restroom, excuse me,” you said scooting out of your chair. Your date nodded and smiled.

You picked up your pace so you could catch him inside. Luckily you did, right before he reached the bathroom door. “Charles.”

He turned around confused, saying your name in response to his. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Same thing you are.” He nodded. “I couldn’t let the night go by without saying anything.”

You admired his body, once again. Your favorite outfit of his. For someone else. Ouch.

“I hope you’re doing well,” he said.

“I’m doing the best I can. Same to you.” You both danced around what you really wanted to talk about.

“Who’s the guy?” He asked.

“A friend from work. We’re just here getting drinks.”

He nodded. “I saw you the moment I sat down but I didn’t want to bother you. You seemed happy.” The sadness in his eyes was evident.

“I’m having a good time. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Servers were using the hallway to get back and forth to the kitchen. “Can we talk in here? Somewhere a little more private?” He motioned for the bathroom.

You crossed your arms as you leaned against the door. “Who is the girl?”

“To be honest, I don’t know her at all. She’s a cousin of a friend. He thought I should try to get my mind off of things.” Well that was a bit of a relief.

He stared at you. “You look really beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” You smiled at him, remembering how much he loved a good compliment.

He took a deep breath in. “I want to be supportive and let you do you, but it’s killing me to see you out with someone else.” You looked at him with sad eyes and felt a chill from the cold air conditioning. “And I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you need to hear right now. But it’s how I feel and we promised to be more honest with each other.”

You looked at his lips and the years you spent kissing them all came back to you. You wanted to pounce on him and feel his body move with yours but you made a promise to yourself. You needed time alone.

"I love you, Charles, I really do-" he cut you off with his lips, practically reading your mind.

"Don't say another word please." It felt so normal, how could you object?

Your bodies molded together the way they always did. You were meant for each other. His fingers tangled in your hair and his warm kisses felt like home.

He pulled away from you, his hands still in your hair. His eyes took in your body and he bit his lip. "Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

His hands moved down your body, taking in the feeling. "Just me."

He kissed your neck and left sloppy desperate kisses along your collarbone, causing your head to fall back against the door.

He flipped your body around and you could feel his growing bulge against your ass.

His fingers trailed under your dress and went inside of you, warming you up for him. You let out a soft moan, remembering what his fingers felt like.

He wasted no time by undoing his shorts and guiding himself inside of you. You moaned at the full feeling. His hands gripped your hips and rocked you back and forth on his cock. "Jesus," he said, trying to keep the noise to a minimum.

"Would that guy out there make you feel like this?" He asked you.

You responded in between moans. "No." You always loved his jealous side because amazing sex followed, but this was nothing like you had ever experienced before. You weren’t his anymore but he wanted to make you his again, show you what you were missing.

“He doesn’t know your body like I do, baby,” he whispered in your ear. His hands wrapped around you and found your chest, taking your breasts in his hand.

"Fuck, I love you," you said between moans. He was taken back and stopped for a second, but eventually snapped back into it. His hands gripped your asscheeks and spread them, making you feel even fuller than before.

He shook his head in disappointment. “I need to stop fucking you but I’m just so addicted to you. I can’t stop.” He grunted while continuing to thrust into you.

Your hands were flat against the door and your head turned to the side. You could see his muscles flexing out of the corner of your eye, making you suck in a heavy breath.

“You feel so good, Charles,” you said. A moan escaped your lips but you couldn’t hold anything back any longer. “Fuck me like it’s the first time again.” Embarrassingly enough, your first time together was in the bathroom at a house party. It seemed like bathroom sex was becoming your thing.

He picked up his pace, and pulled out quickly, but not quick enough. He came all over the back of your dress.

Your jaw dropped but you couldn’t help but laugh. He apologized profusely but also let out a small chuckle.

“Let me take you home and clean you up,” he said.

You stopped for a moment to think. “Only if you take this dress off the next time you want to fuck me.” You grabbed your purse and left the bathroom, making a beeline for the side door.

He grabbed your hand and followed you out to his car. “This isn’t how I expected my night to go.” He said, opening up his passenger side door.

You slipped in to his car and laughed. “And you think I did?”

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part one] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPov!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A night out drinking leads to a small misunderstanding with a handsome, yet dangerous man. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader]

3,894 words

note: edited this so it could still be read as a reader fic! it's actually a lot of fun writing in first person! hope those who read this enjoy my first bsd fic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

I've experienced a lot of amazing things since I've moved to Japan. A new job in a different country, new co-workers and friends, work parties, themed bars, cafes, and hookups with pretty strangers. There was a long list of great things I've had going on, and a long list of things I've never expected... and being fired from the job I had for a year was not one of them.

"A year of hard work... for nothing," I mumbled bitterly as I sat at the bar with my close friend, and now ex-coworker, Keiko. She was beautiful, with long black hair and brown eyes. She frowned, a sympathetic look on her pretty face as she sighed.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll find something else soon! You have an awesome resume, and you're an amazing worker who can speak English, Japanese AND Spanish... there is totally a place for you out there!"

Keiko has always been supportive and enthusiastic, a really bright and friendly girl who made it her mission to befriend me as soon as I started working with her. She was relentless, and soon enough, I found myself spending many hours with the woman.

"Yeah..." I just mumbled again and she laughed softly.

"It's okay to mope... that's why I brought you here!"

"Yeah, about that," I started, sending Keiko a look as I swiveled the stool so my body faced her. "Why did you bring me here?" As soon as the work day was done, Keiko immediately dragged me to what was clearly a mafia bar. That didn't surprise me, since she was actually dating a mafioso.

A mafioso, who was part of the Port Mafia. It wasn't long after I moved to Yokohama that I started to hear stories about the organization, and was also warned not to cross them. Of course, with my luck, I became best friends with someone who dated someone who was in the Port Mafia. How a sweet girl like Keiko ended up with a man like him, I'll never know.

What I do know is that Taichi adored Keiko, gave her everything she could possibly want and need with the money he makes, and that was just being a normal grunt! Even so, it was dangerous, but Keiko didn't seem to mind.

"I come here with Taichi all the time," Keiko answered, sipping her drink. I turned to sip on my own. "You can't tell me it isn't luxurious." It was. My jaw had dropped to the floor when we first stepped into the very luxurious bar. "Don't worry about it, okay? Drink your sadness away! You're safe here. Since I am Taichi's woman, and you're with me, nothing will happen, okay?"

"Where is Taichi anyway?" I asked, glancing over her shoulder when I spotted a group of men walking in through the entrance. I missed the way the light left Keiko's eyes, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. My eyes were on the men, which in the middle was a man with orange hair, a black hat adorning his head. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, my eyes looking at the very handsome man up and down. I swallowed thickly.

"He had a job tonight and couldn't make it. He'll be home to- hey, what are you looking at?" Annoyed at me ignoring her, she turned in her seat, a shocked look on her face before she smiled tightly.

"Taichi! I thought you had an assignment!"

"Hey, babe! We finished early, which was quite surprising, honestly."

The couple embraced and I barely registered the mushy love between the two as I watched the ginger man lead the rest of the group further into the bar. He walked by me, and before I knew it, dark blue eyes were staring right at me, eyebrows furrowed.

"The hell are you looking at?" he sneered and my face turned red, heart dropping in my chest.

"No one! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, quickly turning back around and facing the bar.

"Tch. Whatever," the man only responded before walking off.

"You look like a cherry," Taichi said, clearly amused. I sent him a half-hearted glare, Keiko slapping his chest lightly.

"Be nice to her. She got fired today."

"Ohh, that sucks. If you need help-"

"She won't take it," Keiko said with a huff. "Stubborn ass."

I rolled my eyes at her, biting my lip nervously as I fiddled with my glass. "So uh... who was that guy? With the hat?"

Taichi blinked. "Oh, that's Chuuya Nakahara."

"Is he part of the Port Mafia?"

Taichi barked out a laugh, Keiko giggling softly behind her hand.

"Baby... he's an executive. Chuuya works closely with the leader of the Port Mafia."

"And I work under Chuuya," Taichi finished, amused at how wide my eyes have gotten at the answer.

"You mean to tell me... I pissed off... an executive member..." I was dismayed, heart pounding in my chest.

"Hmm, probably. Don't go home alone tonight," Taichi grinned as I balked, clearly having fun torturing me.

"Taichi! Babe, don't listen to him."

I gulped nervously, downing the rest of my drink before signaling to the bartender to get me another one.. "R-right..." Despite my better judgment, I turned my head, looking towards the obvious VIP section of the bar. Chuuya sat with some other grunts, a glass of what seemed to be red wine in his hand. Of course, his eyes found mines yet again and I whipped my head back around. Fuck, I did it again! I quickly downed the newly made drink, unaware of Chuuya's eyes narrowing as he watched me.

"Nooo, do you have to go?" a drunk Keiko whined as she latched onto my arm, a forever amused Taichi watching on. "Don't leave me with hiiiiiiim."

"I want to go home, dammit," I huffed, successfully peeling her off of me and handing her to her boyfriend. "I have to start job hunting tomorrow. Thank you for bringing me here, I do feel better and I love you but... I'm tired."

"Ugh, you are such an old lady!" Keiko whined again and I couldn't help but laugh, turning to start walking towards the exit.

"Goodnight, you too. Please get her home safe, Taichi."

"I wouldn't count on it~"

I rolled my eyes at his teasing, leaving the two behind as I left the bar. I stepped out into the cool night air, shivering a bit as I closed my cardigan tightly around me. I wore a simple but cute outfit; a black dress with burgundy tights underneath, black flats on my feet and my favorite tan cardigan over the entire outfit. It helped me fight off a bit of the cold, but as I started to walk down the block, I grabbed my phone to start searching through my usual rideshare app.

I didn't get far. My phone cluttered to the ground as it fell out my hands, a gasp leaving my mouth as I was slammed against the nearby brickwall of a narrow, dark alleyway.

"Who the fuck are you?" a familiar voice hissed and I'm shocked to find Chuuya Nakahara glaring daggers at me, his strong hands pinning my arms against the wall. He growled when I didn't answer. "Answer me! Who sent you here?!"

"N-No one!" I cried out, shaking like a leaf. Of course, of course I would be confronted by a fucking high level member of one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan. "I swear, I just came here with my friend."

Chuuya growled again and he flipped me around, pressing my front against the wall. "Stay still," he grunted, and my face started to heat up as I felt his gloved hands quickly feel along my body. He was frisking me, and I gulped when he shoved his hand under my dress, producing the knife I had strapped to my thigh.

"I carry that to protect myself," I immediately explained, Chuuya turning me around again to face him. His eyes were still narrowed, staring me down as if trying to figure out what the hell I was up to.

"And the bouncer didn't pat you down?" he questioned and I shook my head quickly.

"No, he didn't pat me or Keiko down."

"Tch, that's Taichi's woman," he said, though he still looked at me with narrow eyes, hesitating a bit before he turned my knife in his hand, handing it back to me hilt first. "You sure know how to make yourself look suspicious."

I cringed a bit as I strapped my knife to my thigh strap again. I missed how Chuuya's eyes lingered, him licking his lips. "That's my fault I... I know I was staring..." I could feel my face heat up again and I couldn't even look Chuuya in his face. "S-sorry if I creeped you out. I don't mean any harm. Keiko brought me here 'cause I got fired and she wanted to help me feel better..."

"Hm," was his only reply, crossing his arms over his chest. "What you do to fuck up?"

My mouth fell and I sputtered as I tried to come up with the words. "What do you mean?! I didn't fuck up!" I protested. "It literally came out of nowhere! I worked my ass off all year, only to get fired 'cause I wasn't what they needed anymore. Fucking bullshit."

Chuuya was amused by my little vent, snickering a bit as he gave me a quick look up and down. "I'm sure it wasn't your winning personality."

I scoffed. "Says the one that shoved a random woman against a wall?! That hurt, you bastard!"

Chuuya raised his eyebrows at me, and I immediately slapped my hands over my mouth.

Oh no. Fuck, I forgot who I was talking to.

Chuuya snickered again, his eyes flashing in amusement. He stepped closer to me, making me press back against the wall again. Chuuya leaned his face close to mine, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke.

"Be careful who you talk to like that," he hummed, and I shivered despite feeling some of his body heat. "Someone might just cut out your tongue for talking back like that. Me? Well, it'd be a waste, especially when I think of all the things I could make you do with it."

I squeaked, the heat never leaving my face as I stared at Chuuya with a puzzled expression on my face. The sudden switch up was giving me whiplash... and lowkey turning me on. "I..." I stuttered, looking away and finally noticing my phone still on the ground. "Crap, I hope it's not broken."

I rushed over to pick my phone up, ignoring Chuuya's hard stare on me. I looked over my phone, sighing in relief when I saw that it had sustained no damages.

Chuuya then stepped up to me, jerking his head back towards the bar before walking off. "Let me take you home. Take that as an apology for being so rough on you."

I blinked. "Um..."

"Hurry up!"

"Okay!" I squeaked and followed after the man quickly, chewing on my lip as I asked myself... what the fuck was I doing? Am I really about to get inside this man's car? He was a stranger! Who frisked me! Let alone, he is clearly a dangerous man.

I must be insane.

"Tell me," Chuuya started and I was dumbfounded as he approached a rather cool looking motorcycle. No way. "What the hell were you being so creepy for?" He turned to me and asked, an all-knowing smirk on his face. I blushed deeply. Of course, he already was able to figure it out once he realized that I wasn't a threat.

"No reason," I huffed out, earning a low laugh as Chuuya grabbed the only helmet I could see. I looked at him confused, gasping when he unceremoniously placed the helmet over my head. "What about you?"

"I don't need it," Chuuya simply answered before he finally mounted his bike. "Come on, you little liar. Hop on."

I couldn't help but stare, my mouth going dry as I took in the image of this handsome bastard with his bike. The engine roared as he turned it on, revving it a bit and making me make a mess in my panties.

"Hey, ya done eyefucking me, dollface?"

I sputtered. "I was NOT eyefucking you!" I stormed over to the bike, glaring at the grinning bastard as I climbed onto the bike behind him.

Chuuya snorted. "Yeah, like you weren't eyefucking me earlier in the bar," he retorted, easily reaching behind him to grab my wrists, pulling me against his back as he wrapped my arms around him. I was stunned silent, from his words, and his actions and the fact that his back felt so solid.... and he smelled so good...

"I was not..." I mumbled, pressing my cheek against his back. "Shut the fuck up."

He laughed darkly, and that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Where do you live?" Chuuya asked and I hesitantly told him my address. "I know where that is. Hold on."

"You do? It's on the other side of the city," I said and Chuuya just chuckled softly, looking over his shoulder and smirking at me.

"And who exactly runs this city?"

I clamped my mouth shut, his eyes staring into mine. I blushed and looked away from him. He turned his head back around with an amused laugh, the engine revving as he took off on his bike.

"Hold tight, dollface!"

He didn't have to tell me twice, my arms tightening around his torso as he sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic. It was scary, but also so fucking exhilarating. My heart was thudding in my chest, my eyes watering because of the wind. Still, I kept them open, wanting to watch the world blur by us. Chuuya made a sharp, right turn, making me scream while he laughed loudly. 

"Man up!" he yelled at me.

"Stop driving like a crazy person!" I yelled back.

I didn't see the large, almost evil smirk that grew on Chuuya's face. Didn't see him licking his lips excitedly as he eyed a rather tall building coming up ahead.

"Tell me, dollface," he hollered back at me, revving the engine and I gulped as I held him tighter, his bike going faster. A bad feeling started to settle in my stomach, balking when he asked his next question. "Do you want to defy gravity?"

I didn't have time to answer, not when I finally realized that we were heading right towards the side of the building. I couldn't even scream, fear striking me as I suddenly started to see red, body jostling as Chuuya maneuvered the bike to jump in the air.... before landing perfectly on the side of the building and continuing vertically up towards the sky.

"Don't let go!" Chuuya sneered. Like that was ever going to happen.

I didn't dare turn my head to look down, my wide eyes staring up into the night sky as we made it closer to the top of the building. I couldn't even think straight, my body just running on nothing but adrenaline and fear.

"Ch-Chuuya!" I gasped out sharply, the bike finally making it to the roof of the building. Chuuya didn't slow down though, only barreling towards the edge and I started to panic. "Chuuya! What are you doing?!"

Chuuya only snickered, revving the engine once more before sending the bike flying off the edge of the building. I squeak and screw my eyes shut, pressing my face against the middle of his back. I didn't want to watch us plummet to our doom.

"Hey, idiot, open your eyes."

I whimpered and shook my head. "N-No..."

Chuuya sucked his teeth. "Just open your eyes! You'll regret it if you don't."

Biting my lip, I wanted a moment before I lifted my head up and opened my eyes, a small gasp leaving my mouth as I looked around me.

We were still floating in the air, biking moving through the sky. The City of Yokohama was lit up beautifully underneath us. I looked over, seeing the ocean at a distance, the ferris wheel lit up and spinning slowly. My mouth had fallen open, eyes wide in wonder. Chuuya was looking back at me, a triumphant grin on his face.

We made it to my apartment and Chuuya stood over me, an amused smile on his face as he watched me melt on the ground after I got off his bike.

"That was intense..." I mumbled, still feeling the effects of flying through the fucking sky. "I shouldn't even be surprised that you're gifted, with the power that you have already in the Port Mafia."

"Yeah, it was pretty great, huh," Chuuya said smugly, gloved hands stuffed in his coat pockets. I laughed softly, slowly standing up with my shaky legs. He took one look at my frazzled state and he grew even more smug. "That's a cute look on you, though if I really had my way with you, you wouldn't even be able to stand."

My face turned hot, sputtering as I tried to respond, but I had nothing to even say. Because the thought of actually inviting Chuuya inside and--

"Fuck..." I breathed out softly, looking at the man standing before me. His eyes didn't leave mine, the heat in them making a shiver go down my spine. "Do you... want to come inside?"

Chuuya fixed his hat on top of his head. "Lead the way, dollface."

"So... your ability lets you control gravity?" I asked once we made it inside the elevator of my apartment building. We were going fifteen stories up, after Chuuya parked his bike safely, of course.

"To put it simply, yes," Chuuya answered, stepping closer to me. I gasped softly when he grabbed my chin, the leather of his glove pressing against my skin. "But we're not here to talk about that." He pressed himself against me fully, leaning his face in until his lips hovered just above mine. I shivered, looking at him with hooded eyes. "This will be a one time thing, dollface."

I nodded, appreciating his honesty. "Of course," I replied just as the elevator stopped on my floor, doors sliding open. I grinned at him. "So let's make it count."

He liked the sound of that, grabbing my wrist and leading me out the elevator. I rushed to my apartment, grabbing my keys and hurriedly unlocking the door before opening it.

The door slammed shut as Chuuya immediately pressed me against it, his lips on mine in a fervorous kiss. I knocked his hat off his head as I ran my fingers through Chuuya's hair, moaning when his hands started to roam all over my body.

"Fuck..." I moaned softly when Chuuya started to kiss down my neck, squealing when he squeezed on my ass.

"Damn... you won't be able to fucking sit right, either," he growled against my neck as he massaged my ass and thighs. "Let's go."

Groaning when he moved himself away from me, I rushed to lead Chuuya to my bedroom, our clothes coming off in the process and making a trail on the floor.

It didn't take us too long to start really going at it, our lust fueling us to incredible heights. Chuuya held my hips tightly with his leather clad hands, thrusting his hard cock in and out of my soaking pussy.

He was fucking me hard, my body just sprawled on the bed as I moaned and grunted from the pleasure this man was giving me. "Fuck, fuck, Chuuya!" I whined, making the man grin widely as he kept his pace. Sweat covered both of our bodies, moans and deep growls mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"That's right, dollface, ride me," Chuuya smirked up at me, now on his back as I bounced up and down on his cock. His hands were right on my hips, his eyes going back and forth between  watching my bouncing breasts and watching his cock disappear inside my heat. "Fuck, you're so fucking sexy," he growled, thrusting up particularly hard and making me toss my head back, screaming when I finally fucking cum.

"Oh my God!" I gasped sharply, still squeezing around him as I began to slow down. "Oh fuck... it's so good," I moaned, reaching out and hooking my finger into Chuuya's black choker. I pulled and he pushed himself up, lips meeting mine in a messy kiss.

I moaned against his mouth, still slowly riding him as his hands ran up and down my sides, the leather cool against my skin. Then, Chuuya placed his hands on my hips, and with a mischievous little smirk, he licked his lips. Immediately, my body started to feel a little bit lighter, and Chuuya started to effortlessly bounce me up and down on his cock, 100% controlling my body with his ability.

"Chuuya..." I moaned his name, head lolling back. He continued to maneuver my body, little grunts and moans leaving his own mouth as he worked to reach his own pleasure, and mine.

I came again, tears falling down my face from the intense pleasure, and that was enough for Chuuya to pull me off of him completely, putting me on my knees before him on the bed. His hand grabbed the back of my neck and he pushed my head down, stuffing his cock in my mouth.

"Take it," he growled, his hands in my hair and using it to push my head up and down as he fucked my mouth. I moaned around him, a new wave of pleasure washing over me as I let the mafioso use me as he wanted. Soon enough, he exploded into my mouth, and I made sure I swallowed all of him.

"Fuck, that's hot..." Chuuya breathed out when I opened my mouth to show him that I did so. "You're such a good girl, dollface."

That made me flustered and I looked away shyly, earning a chuckle from him. I looked over when I felt him get up from the bed, thinking that he would leave. Instead, he just gave me a look. "Where is your shower?"

We showered together,  which took longer than needed because Chuuya couldn't keep his hands to himself. I was surprised when he climbed into bed with me afterwards, allowing me to cuddle against him as we slowly fell asleep.

I wasn't surprised though, when I woke up the next morning, sore and alone. I didn't get too upset about it, though. Chuuya laid it out clear and I accepted it and moved on.

I sat on my dining room table, looking through the newspaper as I sipped on my morning coffee. I was looking for a new job and figured looking at the local ads wouldn't hurt.

"Hm... let's see..." I whispered, reaching over and grabbing my knife. I ran the tip of it down the paper, stopping when one particular ad stuck out. "Hm... the Armed Detective Agency, huh? Interesting..." I set my knife down, staring at the ad as I took another careful sip of coffee.

-End

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities. 

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."

[livinghostly]

the way you said i love you

zuko x reader

not my gif!

words: 2660

request/summary: all the times zuko said he loved you, without actually saying it.

prompt: this post inspired me

warning: some angst, mostly fluff

a/n: this is my first time writing zuko and i'm kind of in love with him :') feedback is much appreciated

as a hello

"hello, zuko here." there was a slight smile on his face as he waved gently.

your breath caught in your throat and you found yourself taken aback, expecting anything but that. he greeted you with such familiarly, as if you were old friends reuniting. the way he reminded you of his name– as if you could ever forget the identity of the person who'd been hunting down you and your friends for nearly a year.

zuko didn't try to fight, he didn't prepare himself in a stance to even protect himself as your friends readied for an attack. he simply stood, as if he posed no threat.

he looked to you– the only one who hadn't brought your hands up and prepare whatever defense you had at your disposal. you were stunned, as you tried to analyze the firebender in front of you, until sokka nudged you with his elbow. only then, did you unsheathe the sword kept in the holster at your side.

"hey, i heard you guys flying around down there, so, i just thought i'd wait for you here."

and then, the strangest thing happened– appa licked him.

over a cup of tea

sweat beaded upon your forehead and fall to flow down the sides of your face as you writhed in the sheets of your bed. you weren't hot, you were freezing, but no amount of blankets could help you maintain any warmth. you bunched them around your shoulders and threw yourself on your side, looking for some comfort.

the blinds to your room were closed, creating a stuffy environment. they had been shut since that morning when you'd woken up feeling as if you'd been a victim of bloodbending, again. your muscles were tight and aching, it felt like a great weight on your limbs as you tried to move.

katara's healing didn't have the power to take away the fever or the strain, it wasn't a physical wound to be stitched back up. there wasn't much your friends could offer, besides leaving you alone to wallow in your own helplessness.

suddenly, the door opened. instinctively, your head turned towards the figure. he entered shyly, as if hiding behind the tray in his hands. you narrowed your eyes in curiosity, and propped yourself up against the wall. you moved to get off the bed, but his voice stopped you.

"don't get up." it was an order, but zuko's voice was soft.

he pulled up your desk chair next to your bed, his knees pressed against the soft fabric of your comforter. he laid the tray in his lap, a bowl and a cup, both full of tea, sitting on top.

"hey, zuko," you smiled.

"i, uh, i made your favorite," he offered, handing you the cup.

you took it gratefully, glancing inside the cup. the concoction was murky, with scattered bits of leaf left inside he apparently had paid no attention to. you grimaced, but it fell when you looked back up at him to see a hopeful grin on his face.

offering a tight smile, you brought the cup to your lips. you couldn't bring yourself to face his excited expression as you struggled to keep your composure. oh, spirits, it tasted much worse than it looked. as if it was mud, but acrid. it was hard to ignore the pungent smell as you brought it closer to your nose, tipping the cup as far up as you could to let the liquid run down your throat as quickly as possible.

"how does it taste?" zuko raised his eyebrows, clearly nervous as he found your expression unreadable. "is it okay?"

"yeah!" you said, a little too joyously. for a moment, you forgot how people reacted to good tea. you reminded yourself of iroh, but took it down a few notches. "it's– it's great, zuko."

"do you want any more?"

"i'm okay, actually," you squeaked, placing the cup down on his tray before he could try to insist.

zuko nodded, setting the tray on your desk before turning back to you. he was unsure of himself, what to say or how to react. he just wanted to be there, with you. his eyes lit up with a realization and, hesitantly, he brought the back of his hand to your forehead.

"what're you–"

"my mom used to do it when i got sick... i don't think your fever is going down, you're still warm."

he began to pull his hand away, but you stopped him by pulling at his wrist.

"actually, i'm freezing," you corrected. the longer he kept his hand against your skin, the better it felt. the contrast of his warm hand against the coolness you felt blanketing your body came as a relief. you placed his hand against your cheek, and for a moment, your eyes fluttered shut.

zuko's eyes widened, and he rubbed his thumb against your cheekbone experimentally. his touch was gentle, offering comfort in his warmth.

the moment between the two of you lasted a few seconds, and zuko leaned closer. but the sudden, obnoxious knocking on your bedroom door tore the two of you apart. he quickly ripped his hand away back to his side, and the two of you turned towards the entrance.

sokka pushed open the door with a careless expression, that quickly turned into a wide smirk as he observed the scene before him. he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"zuko, aang's asking for you down on the training grounds. something about some jerkbending practice," he shrugged, ignoring zuko's glare that could burn through him, if he so desired.

zuko stood from his place and pushed your chair back into it's place, then picked up the tray. he cast a glance back towards you. "feel better y/n."

"thanks, zuko," you said softly, already missing the feeling of his hand against your cheek.

he left the room quietly, knocking his shoulder subtly against sokka's. the water tribe boy held back his yelp, and his eyes followed zuko as he disappeared around the corner.

"so..." his grin was smug. "how was the tea?"

"shut up, sokka," you grumbled, sliding back underneath the blankets.

"no, really! i narrowly avoided being the taste-tester, and that's a fate worse than death."

as an apology

watching zuko firebend had become part of your daily routine, his body moved so effortlessly as he trained, it was hard to tear your eyes away from. it started as passing through the day, taking a quick break to pause and look through the trees. but now, you happily took a break from your duties and watched– sometimes joining in for some sparring.

at first you thought he didn't notice, too focused on his bending and quite eager to ignore whatever nonsense was going on around the camp. but, then, he spoke up.

"are you going to stare the entire time?"

you fumbled the laundry basket in your hands, feeling your cheeks warm up.

he stopped his bending, turning to face you. a blush dusted his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "you can sit down– you know, if you want."

a few weeks passed and you couldn't bring yourself to drop the tradition, no matter how much katara begged for a girls day out or aang wanted someone to show his new tricks to. it was nice for you and zuko to be alone.

sometimes, when he would train, he would rant. talk to you about the things weighing down on his shoulders or insulting the very specific way sokka would get on his nerves.

you sat on the bench of the training grounds, your knees drawn up to your chest and your back against the armrest. you were knitting a sweater, once finished it would be for momo. you listened absentmindedly as he punched through the air, every few moments averting your gaze back to him.

a plume of smoke whizzed past your head and your eyes widened, looking up. "watch where you're aiming, zuko."

"sorry," he mumbled half-heartedly, catching the teasing tone in your voice. but he complied, turning his back to you as he continued to practice. "i'm trying to get used to this whole not-angry-bending thing."

"i think you're doing pretty well there, handsome."

the nickname slipped out before you could stop yourself, surprising both of you. your eyes widened and you stopped knitting immediately, snapping your gaze up to him.

the firebender spun around mid-flame, his shock disrupting his bending abilities. the fire whizzed out towards you like a crescent wave, swarming the air.

you had a split second of reaction time. fear washed over you, and you brought your arms up to protect your face, there wasn't anything else you could do. the fire singed your skin, your forearms and all the way to your hands.

"i'm sorry, y/n! i didn't mean to!" he apologized frantically, dropping his arms to his sides, the fire died with that. he made his way over, towering over you with worry. "i– i just lost control! i don't– i don't know why, i–"

your face was contorted in pain as you brought your arms to your chest, the friction against your clothes only making the sensation worse. "it's– okay, zuko," your voice was strained, and stood up. "i just have to get to katara."

though you brushed past him, he followed at your heel. "i'm sorry, y/n," he said again, ignoring how you dismissed him.

you found katara on the patio with aang, both concentrated on their poorly done game of pai sho (they made the rules up as they went). their attention was drawn to you when you skidded to a stop, zuko running into your back.

before you could even sputter it out, or katara could ask what was wrong, he spoke up.

"i– i was bending, and i lost control. i burned her– but i didn't mean to!" he fumbled with his hands, leaning forward as if pleading for them to believe him. "it was an accident!"

"it'll be okay, zuko. calm down," aang stood up, gently facing his palms outward as if zuko was a wild animal he was approaching. he needed to calm down. "katara can heal her."

you walked forward towards katara's open arms, she coaxed you towards the beach. you closed your eyes tightly and ducked your head to the floor, the pain is was excruciating. you didn't want them to see you cry, you didn't want zuko to feel more guilt than he already was.

"i'm so sorry."

stepping off the patio, you glanced over your shoulder. "it's not your fault, zuko."

aang tried to usher him inside the building, but his feet were stiff, as if he was stuck in concrete. he was hesitant to follow, his sad gaze following you as you reached the edge of the beach where katara could heal you. then, he left with aang.

"i've never seen him like that," katara whispered to you.

with no space left between us

the moon was full, and hung high amidst the deep blue hugging every inch of the sky. your eyebrows furrowed subconsciously as you glared up at the stars, lost in thought. the grass was itchy against your skin and the wind brought a cold sweep through your hair.

there was a campfire on the beach you'd pulled yourself away from not too long ago. in the distance, you could still hear sokka's painful singing as he danced around the flames with momo as his partner (after suki refused).

zuko was somewhere over there, fueling the fire and probably shooting the occasional flame at sokka's feet for his and toph's entertainment. you knew you were right when you heard sokka's squeal and then accuse him of sabotoge.

for a brief moment, your attention was drawn away from the sky and you looked over. your expression softened. zuko had a proud smile on his face, doing his best to keep it down. it alerted a fleet of unruly butterflies in your stomach, begging for you to return to your friends.

you wanted to sit beside zuko again but you couldn't, too busy mulling over how to handle whatever it was you felt for him.

he met your gaze, and you offered a soft smile in return. it didn't reach your eyes and faded when you looked back at the sky.

almost immediately, zuko got up from the log he was sitting on and made his way towards you. you wouldn't have realized, if toph hadn't called out: "where ya going, sparky?"

he settled in the grass next to you, mirroring the way you kept your hands clasped over your stomach. there was no room left between you, his arm pushed up against yours comfortably.

"uh..." zuko started out. "you can talk to me, you know that right? about your feelings?"

"yeah," you said, your voice quiet. but you didn't want to talk to him. in fact, you'd rather talk to azula about you were feeling, than him.

silence followed.

"so, why'd you walk away from the fire?"

"i just needed to think."

"about what?"

you turned to face him with a raised eyebrow, only to find him staring back at you. you blushed, but felt a smirk creep over your features.

he sighed, looking up again. "sorry."

zuko was content, laying there with you, looking as if he had not a single thing in the world to worry about. as if next to him, you didn't have a voice in the back of your head screeching for you to do something already.

but you just looked– your eyes followed his facial features and noticed how each time he blinked it was longer than the last, you wondered if he would really fall asleep next to you.

"the stars remind me of you."

you were caught off guard. "what?"

"the stars are... bright, they light up the sky. even when things are dark, and you can’t see clearly, they’re there to show you the way. they're beautiful, and create incredible constellations. i can't look away from them."

whatever you were going to say, died in your throat. you didn't know how to respond. he spoke so casually as if his words didn't light every one of your nerves on fire. the flurry in your stomach only became more extreme. it felt too good to be true, it couldn't be real. the boy you were laying with under the stars told you possibly the most romantic thing you ever heard.

you'd been staring for so long, you forgot you had yet to actually say anything.

zuko faced you, a worrisome expression clouding his features. "was that weird?"

"no!" you squeaked. unwilling to meet his eyes, you looked away. "no, it was really nice. i just didn't expect it, at all. no one's really ever said anything–"

he leaned on his side and placed a hand on your cheek, and feeling that you missed. he didn't give you much time to process as he directed your chin to face him again, and then he kissed you. it was desperate, but soft, not wanting you to pull away but not being demanding. you kissed back with surprise, raising your eyebrows. it lasted a few seconds before he pulled away.

"was that weird?" he pulled his eyebrows together.

"not at all," you smiled gently, sweeping a hand through his hair.

in the distance, toph made herself known. "hey, are you two done over there? you're giving my feet a headache!"

"isn't that a feet-ache?" sokka chimed in, followed by an instantaneous groan as a rock slammed against his head.

[sweetestlamb]

You Can’t Just Leave Me

Summary: The Han family is a force to be reckoned with. 

Author’s Note: Writing this chapter made me smile, I hope reading it as the same affect on you all. Thank you to everyone who supports this story and leaves comments (or my silent readers). I appreciate you all and I am so thankful that you like this brainchild, I’ve just been winging it- never expecting to be on chapter 7 on something I initially planned on being a one shot. You all made it come this far, enjoy chapter 7!! Beautiful header by @ewolfwitchwisegirl text message created by Junjin fairy @prodmina

The apartment is eerily quiet following Su-ah's departure, he hadn't intentionally tried to eavesdrop but it was hard not to overhear their sniffles through the door. Then hours later the usually bubbly girl had exited the room with red rimmed eyes, he'd never seen her cry before in his many years of knowing her. He was awkward in the face of it, not used to comforting anyone besides Ju-Kyeong. 

Their conversation was clipped and it was clear that Sujin hadn't opened up about what happened. The Su-ah he knew would be making plans to sabotage her father, if she knew the full story.  She'd left with the final words, "Take care of her." He nodded without hesitation that was his intentions, he just needed to get her onboard with his plan to do that.

Taking a deep soothing breath he walks over to knock on the door.

"Sujin-ah, can we talk?" He asks, pressing his head against the door. Ready to plead if need be, she hadn't been answering him since being here. He never saw her come outside, but the food he brought would just disappear hours after he placed it. He waits patiently before reaching out his knuckles to knock again, but when the door suddenly opens he takes a quick step back surprised to see Sujin's face. It's clear she's been crying. He looks away, it's a bit unsettling to see her like this. Too raw.

"Let's talk in the living room." He suggests quietly, stepping back and walking towards the couch. Nerves easing minutely as he hears her soft footsteps behind him. He slides into one corner of the couch and watches as she sits on the opposite end. An awkward silence bellows around them as he stares at his hands and she stares at the ceiling. They have both never been the most talkative on a good day, but now it’s painful. 

He clears his throat stilling when he feels her eyes on him, waiting. He had this speech planned in his head for days but now that the moment is actually here, he's terrified. Too nervous to say the words he wants to, does he even have the right to apologize to her now? Does she even want his late apology or will she brush him off? He wouldn't blame her one bit, it had taken him too long and he still hasn't even forgiven himself, how could he expect her to forgive him? 

"Thank you."

He almost misses the quiet utterance because he's so lost in his own self deprecation. They are staring at each other now eyes locked, his own wide in bewilderment.

"What?" He responds caught off guard, he didn't expect Sujin to speak at all-much less for those to be her first words.

"You heard me. Thank you for letting me stay here and for not pressuring me to talk about it."  Sujin awkwardly squirms in her seat, glancing away from him before darting back and she gives him the courage to finally saw what he wanted- no needed to.

"I'm sorry." It's his turn to watch the shock form on her face but he presses on before she can question him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, I knew what was happening but I didn't know how to help. I understand now that just being there would have been enough, you just needed a friend. I'm sorry I wasn't one."

A slight weight lifts off his shoulder and his heart, he's not free but he's one step closer. One step at a time.

"You didn't do anything wrong. We were just kids, what could you have done? It's okay, I never expected you to save me. How could you when you were dealing with your own pain?"

She's giving him an out, and logically she's right the pain of losing his mother crippled him for years. It was still weighing heavy on him to this day but he doesn't want an out, he wants to be accountable. He would rather her rage than her understanding.

"I know you didn't need a savior, but you needed a friend. Am I wrong? Were you okay dealing with everything on your own?" It's a low blow he's aware and the way her eyes narrow further confirm that his question isn't appreciated.

"Am I wrong?" He repeats and watches as the ice around her eyes melt away glacially, too many emotions flashing in her dark orbs- anger, sadness, disappointment, broken acceptance each emotion cutting at his heart.

Leaning forward he grabs at the folder on the table, he's already come this far might as well go all the way now.

"Here." He hands it to her, she raises an eyebrow taking the thick object. "Open it," he nods at the folder watching quietly as she breaks the seal and pulls out the documents, eyes scanning the papers before realization settles.

"Emancipation?" She whispers, now staring at him unblinking he can feel the heft of her undivided attention.

"Yes, we've been doing research and I think the best bet is for you to get emancipated." He winces at himself as she glares at the use of "we", he should have left that out with how distant they've been; she didn't even know that Seojun was the one providing the meals she seemed to love. She might stop eating them if she knew, she was so stubborn sometimes. 

She leaf's through the pages, carefully looking over the document and he sits silently awaiting her reaction.

"He would never allow this. You know that." It's said with certainty as if she's accepted her fate long ago, probably thought of this very option herself and then talked herself out of it.

"I'm going to ask her father to help, he's been supporting your father all these years. If he knew the truth..." He trails off letting her finish the rest and she barks out a humorless laugh, it sounds more like a sob.

"You want to tell your father? They have known each other for years, why would he believe me?"

"He's my dad. He'll believe me. We have to at least try." He pleads now desperate for her agreement. It wasn’t the right thing to say, he knows that instantly. 

Instantly she stands up, slamming the documents on the table the ice restoring around her eyes. "I was fine all those years you were wrong.  I'm not doing this, I don't need your dad's help." She spits the word "dad" like it's poison on her tongue, storming off to the room and slamming the door shut.

He sighs, defeated leaning back onto the couch. He sends a text to his father and Seojun. He failed. 

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Guilt eats at her following her outburst, she wasn't mad at Suho despite her harsh words. She can blame her anger on many things but she's self-aware enough to know that it's a defense mechanism; she was jealous. It was ugly and grotesque, but she cannot stop the way her blood boils when she sees others with parents that care. 

He's my father, he'll believe me.

That would never be her reality, Suho and his father had been able to reconcile and restart their broken relationship. That would never be her truth, her relationship with her father would never resemble something healthy and despite her efforts to repress her true feelings, it hurts. The little girl who desperately wanted to make her dad happy and proud still hadn't died.

She feels stupid, the biggest fool on the planet. How can she still be looking for love from someone who has never shown her anything but hatred? She’s the one with a problem here, she knows that. 

She shouldn't have lashed out especially after his apology, that must have taken true guts and she had thrown it all back in his face. She tries to make amends but every time they cross paths she freezes up and escapes to her borrowed room instead. It continues on for days with him still bringing food to her door and the combination of their kindness is too much for her. She doesn’t deserve it from either of them. 

Tugging on her jacket she leaves the apartment hastily with only a small note on her door. She needs some space to think without feeling suffocated.

Gone for a walk.

It's just her luck that it's raining outside, only a drizzle but it coats the world in a thick fog and it's hard to see. The biggest benefit is that nobody can see her, she just needs time alone to think. 

The idea of emancipation wasn't new to her, she had considered this option before but in the end she discarded it. Her father wasn't someone she would simply leave, he would drag her back kicking and screaming. He had instilled long ago that she was his, it was pointless to have dreams or aspirations, she just needed to follow his orders. That was her purpose. Being an obedient dog. 

Suho's plan also called for revealing her pitiful life, what if she went through this ordeal only to lose and not be given emancipation in the end? No. She couldn't make herself that vulnerable at least now she had her dignity, only two people knew about her secret. It might not be much to others, but her dignity was everything to her; it was all she had left.

Sighing loudly at the skies she mentally curses the weather, maybe it's poetic but all of her worst times have been bookmarked by the rain. It must be a metaphor for her life, damp and cold with no warmth in sight.

Stopping to sit on a bench she stares up at the gray skies before closing her eyes, accepting her fate. "Fine, rain on me. I probably deserve this." Cool raindrops roll down her cheeks imitating tears and she can feel the moisture seeping into her clothes and siphoning her heat.

"Unnie?" She jumps at the voice, sounding too close and she shifts away when she opens her eyes and is greeted by the large bespectacled eyes of Gowoon. The younger girl smiles sweetly, covering her with a pale blue umbrella with ice cream cones decorating it. It’s too innocent and too young the antithesis of everything in her life. 

"Unnie! What are you doing in the rain? You're getting wet!" Gowoon grabs her arm tugging her to her feet using her umbrella to shelter them both. She's shocked when she doesn't bristle at the unexpected and too familiar manhandling. She almost rolls her eyes, what was it with the Han family and finding her during rainstorms? 

"Come on, my house isn't far. I'll make you some soup so you don't catch a cold." The other girl doesn't wait for her reply before she starts pulling her down the sidewalk. She sputters but feels her feet following obediently.

"Oppa is working late, so he won't be there to bother us."

Her heart defiantly jumps at the mention of him, she hasn't seen him in a week. She has dozens of unsent messages to him, cowardice has rendered her fingers useless though. 

"That's good." She lies, "So it'll just be us two?" She's not quite ready to meet any other members of the Han family.

The other girl nods absently, easily easing them into a riveting conversation about a boy at school who won't leave her alone. She offers to beat him up if he keeps on bothering her to which Gowoon laughs gleefully before squealing, "You sound just like Seojun oppa!" She glares at the comparison watching entranced at the young girl's uncontrollable giggles. When was the last time she'd laughed so freely? She had no recollection.

Gowoon wasn't lying and within minutes she's staring at the apartment she's only seen once before. That feels like a lifetime ago.

She immediately regrets her inability to say no to persuasive girl later when they are greeted at the door.

"Gowoon, sweetie is that you?" A maternal voice calls out and she instantly recognizes it, stiffening in the doorway. Stepping back she starts thinking of excuses, but her tongue is too heavy in her mouth and she's too slow as the woman comes around the corner halting her escape. 

She blinks unhurried as the older woman gapes at her clearly not expecting to see anyone besides her daughter.

Gowoon breaks the silence, her voice nonchalant, "Hi mom! This is my unnie Sujin, she's the one who saved me the other day! Is it okay that I brought her here for dinner, I found her in the rain!" Gowoon makes it sound like she picked up a stray puppy outside, but she knows the other girl means no harm. 

Her skin prickles at the question, anxiety filling her stomach without her permission. She's waiting for rejection. For Gowoon’s mother to say that it is not okay and she would rather eat with her daughter without a stranger intruding. 

"Of course! I didn't realize it was the same Sujin." Gowoon looks confused by her mother's statement and she feels embarrassment swarming in her belly. Oh no. She has to stop her before she reveals too much, Gowoon knows nothing and she wants to keep it that way. 

"I didn't realize you knew Sujin too, isn't this Seojun's cru.."

"Classmate!" She suddenly interjects staring at the woman with pleading eyes, she's not ready for Gowoon to know about her brothers “feelings”. She's trying her best to forgot them too.

They both stare at her and she squirms under the scrutiny, before the older woman puts her out of her misery. "Yes, Seojun mentioned her before I didn't realize she was the same person that helped you. Thank you." She freezes as the woman embraces her hand, smiling at her warmly as she thanks her. She can only stare in response, nodding dumbly.

"Come on unnie! I'll get you some warm clothes, you'll catch a cold if you keep wearing those."

She lets herself be tugged into the younger girl’s room. Just like Gowoon the room is bright and vivacious, wall covered in posters and books littering her table. It looks completely normal and it makes her ache, her own room was militarily decorated with nothing out of place and no evidence of her personality. Since she was young her father would inspect it and punish her if anything was untoward. She had stopped trying to make the room look lived in after seeing poster after poster thrown down. 

"Here unnie. You can borrow this." Her eyes bulge at a familiar blue shirt with a puppy on the front. "I know it's so embarrassing but oppa got it for me, it's really warm though." In the end he'd gotten her to wear the ridiculous shirt, she reluctantly goes off to change into the top and leggings. They are the same baby blue hue, making the outfit look like a set. She's thankful the boy isn't here to see her.

"Well don't you look adorable?" Seojun's mom coos at her when she finally comes out of the bathroom, she desperately wants to disappear. The woman must notice her ruby cheeks because she turns with a smile calling out to her daughter, "Gowoon! Come help with dinner!"

Now changed too, into cactus pajamas the younger girl bounds out grabbing an apron and tying it behind her back.

"What are are we making?" She curiously peeks over her mom's shoulder. The air between the mother and daughter is comfortable, the two leaning into each other naturally as they discuss what to make for dinner. She observes with a heavy heart as Gowoon easily puts her head on her mom's shoulder and the woman strokes her cheek lovingly. Something inside her throbs in response.

"Do you want to help?"

Shaking her head to clear the longing she looks at their mom, who's looking back at her with soft eyes already holding out another apron.

She can't control herself her yearning is too large, she stands without hesitation walking to the woman, sucking in a breath when the apron is placed over her shoulders and then tightened snuggly.

"We're making wonton soup. Have you ever made dumplings before sweetie?"

She looks at Gowoon waiting for her reply but then realizes that both pair of eyes are on her and oh, she's talking to her. She called her sweetie. Swallowing thickly she shakes her head before replying, "No. I've never made them before." She waits to be berated or at least chastised for her lack of culinary skills, her father always said a woman's place was in the kitchen.

Nothing happens. The woman hums before smiling again, she's always smiling it's so pretty. She wishes she had the courage to say the words aloud. She doesn't.

"You can help Gowoon chop the vegetables for the filling. Then we can mix it with the ground pork and I'll show you how to make the dumplings." If the woman is disappointed at all at having to teach her she's doing an incredible job of concealing her frustrations.

She accepts the knife when Gowoon hands it to her, both of them working on a wooden cutting board. They've gotten into somewhat of a rhythm slicing the chives and carrots finely for the filling. She'd never chopped vegetables before but their mom had casually stood behind her shocking her so much she almost dropped the knife, but the older woman had easily caught the utensil before holding her hand and manually showing her how to tuck her fingers and mince the vegetables. She froze before imitating the woman, she was good at replicating acts.

"That looks great sweetie! You're a fast learner!" The woman praised her turning back to the broth and adding more seasoning liberally. She preened under the attention smiling shyly before Gowoon shouted out loudly, "What about me mom? How do mine look?" They both looked at the younger girl's unevenly chopped chives and carrots, next to Sujin's perfectly identical veggies all in an even row. The difference between the two is stark. 

"They look fine dear, they'll be hidden in the dumplings anyway." Her mother tries to soothe her ego, patting her shoulder before turning back to her soup dismissively and a burst of laughter explodes from her chest at the offended look on Gowoon's face, her cheeks are red and her mouth is turned down in an exaggerated frown. The younger girl looks positively livid that her mother is not similarly singing her praises and she starts to defiantly chop more vegetables, only to have them come out even worst; even more lopsided and haggard. 

She tries to tamper her laugh but when the younger girl starts whining, crying about how her veggies were “cousins not siblings” she loses it, clutching at the counter for balance. She feels the air bursting from her lungs as she clutches at her stomach, laughing harder when Gowoon glares at her pout on her lips. The older woman joins her rubbing her daughter's back as she cries about her dignity, and then Gowoon looks at them both laughing at her and a smile spreads on her face and soon they are all laughing in the kitchen, soup bubbling beside them as a delicious aroma permeates the room.

None of them hear the front door opening or a deep voice announcing its arrival.

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He's cold, tired and wet. Once again missing the forecast for rain, he really needed to start carrying an umbrella around all the time. What was up with the weather lately anyway? Why was it raining all the damn time?  He absently thinks of a certain someone and hopes she's somewhere warm out of the rain. They always seemed to meet when the sky was pouring and raging. 

It was hard not contacting her but he wanted to listen to her requests and respect her wishes no matter how hard it was for him, it was also getting pathetic being the only one fighting for this. She hadn't outright rejected him after his confession but her silence was an answer in itself and he wanted to respect that. He wasn't too manly to admit that he was hurt, and he was reeling from being pushed away so many times already.

So he followed his mother's advice, he'd given her something that he knew she needed and expected nothing in return.

All week he'd been waking up early to cook for the girl, reading recipes off his phone  fluffy cat headband on his head keeping his fringe out of his eyes. The easier recipes like soup and grilled meats had been simple enough to accomplish but when he ventured into more complicated bento boxes that's when frustrations had arose. They looked so easy but they were tedious and he wasn’t the most patient or detail oriented person. 

He struggled to recreate the detailed meals and almost gave up,  throwing his phone across the room.

That's how his mother had found him, fuming and tugging his hair on the kitchen table. Seconds away from bashing his head into the surface and screaming at the ceiling. 

"What are you doing up so early?" He jumped at her voice, looking around at the mess he'd made in the kitchen with wide guilty eyes.

"I-I can explain." He stuttered out but couldn't come up with a feasible answer once she looked at him expectantly, arms folded. The patented mom stare. 

She had calmly walked across the room picking up his discarded phone, peering at the screen before looking back at him.

"Is this for your friend?" She shook the phone at him knowingly and he pressed his lips tight together, nodding mutely while looking away.

"Okay let's see what you have so far." His mom walked over and assessed what he had already made, nodding with a proud smile. "You did good so far, let me show you how to make a hotdog into an octopus. I did this for you all the time when you were a kid."

He was grateful when she didn't ask him any questions and it became their morning ritual, until he no longer needed guidance and he was able to make the boxes on his own. The satisfaction he felt when Suho would return the containers, clean as a whistle not even a grain of rice remaining was incomparable. It wasn't much but at least she was eating, that was all he needed even if she didn't want to see him or know that he was the one making her meals.

He sighs at himself, he told himself not to think about her but that was proving easier said than done.

Shaking himself at the front door like a wet dog, he tugs his keys from the back pocket of his jeans slotting it on the doorknob and turning.

"I'm home!" He calls out instinctively announcing his arrival as he toes off his drenched boots, but then his eyebrow lifts as he hears peals of laughter coming from the kitchen. He chuckles without knowing the joke, instantly rejuvenated by his family's abundant joy. Slipping on his slippers after hesitating a second because he doesn't recognize the shoe at the front door. When did Gowoon get those and how the hell was his little sister affording Chanel sneakers?

Those thoughts are swarming in his mind when he stomps to the kitchen, all the air sucked from his lungs when he sees an unbelievable vision. His mother and sister are grasping at each other, lost in laughter completely unaware of his presence but the image that most shocks him is Sujin, holding her stomach as she spots something on the counter that sets her off into another bout of boisterous laughter.

He can't help it he starts to categorize her every move, the way her eyes are crinkled and a stray tear is leaking out the corner, the way her nose is scrunched up like a rabbit and the way her mouth is stretched wide, visible even behind the futile shield of her hand. All of his thoughts from earlier regarding not needing to see her dissipate, he wants to tattoo this image in his mind.

"Oh! You're here!" His mother suddenly turns to face him and that causes Sujin to freeze laughter fading off with a whine, regarding him with huge bright eyes. It's almost too much once he notices what she's wearing, he wasn't prepared to see her like this in his house. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"I'm home. I'll go change and come help." Both his mother and Gowoon nod easily no longer paying him any mind but he can feel eyes on him as he runs away, trying to regain his composure and his breath. He purposely avoids Sujin's eyes not ready to see if the walls are back up at his arrival.

When he comes back out the table is already set and they've all taken a seat, the only available chair is between his mom and Sujin, so he takes a calming breath before walking over with fake confidence. He’s used to faking it until he makes it. That could be the name of his biography. 

He answers his family's questions about work and school blowing on the soup before taking a bite of the slightly lopsided dumpling. What it's lacking in appearance it more than makes up for in flavor, he groans at the delicious flavor that dances on his taste buds looking up excitedly at his mom.

"These dumplings are delicious! Thank you for the meal!" He praises his mom, happily chewing at the soft delicacy in his mouth.

"Thank you Junnie, but I didn't make the dumplings. They worked on the filling together but Sujin-ah seasoned and filled the dumplings while I made the broth and your sister helped with the side dishes." His mother smiles proudly over at the two girls, Gowoon beaming with pride but Sujin, almost disappears into her soup her head so close to the steaming hot bowl.

They haven’t said anything to each other and he's nervous to be the one to break this stalemate but he also really wants to talk to her, has wanted to since he stepped through the door and saw her smiling face. Has wanted to since that night he stormed out and didn't look back. So finally he does, gathering all his bravery to finally look over at her.

"The dumplings are great." And when she doesn't look up or seemingly react at all, he tells himself he's fine and he expected that. She wasn't ready to talk to him yet, it was his own fault for hoping when she'd explicitly told him to stop doing that.

So he goes back to eating, more lethargic than before eyes locked on nothing but his food and his spoon. It was embarrassing. He knows his cheeks are pink and he hates it.

"Thank you. I just followed your mom's directions. It was nothing."

He pauses, peeking up at her and almost choking when she shoots him a small smile before filling her bowl with more rice.

His heart thumps in his chest. Fuck.

He doesn't hear anything else the rest of the meal, too lost in his thoughts and it's only familiarity that has him standing up when everyone is finished, collecting the plates and bringing them to the sink.

"It's almost time for Sunbae, don’t wear those high heels!!" Gowoon shouts, he cringes at the name of the new drama they've been obsessively watching, he'd only tuned in one time before flabbergasted by the exorbitant amount of times the female protagonist had fallen into the arms of various men but especially the male lead. She fell off a balcony into his arms that time, with neither of them needing to be admitted to the hospital somehow. His mother and Gowoon had both hushed him when he'd voiced that particular opinion and he had happily banished himself to his room.

"Oh no, I'm going to miss it because I'm washing the dishes." He replies deadpan as his sister rolls her eyes dramatically at him, "Whatever it's your loss. Let's go I want to see if she's going to choose the sweet bad boy or the cold cute guy!"

He scoffs at the cliché characterizations scrubbing harder at the plate.

"Come on unnie!" Sujin gasps as she's tugged to the living room too, glancing over he sees his little sister place her in the middle of the couch sandwiched between her and his mother. Sujin looks overwhelmed as Gowoon animatedly tries to catch her up on the series. He shakes his head, maybe the show wasn't that bad. He could watch a few minutes with them.

He strolls casually to the living room, easing onto the ground beside his mother's legs after all the dishes are clean and drying.

"What are you doing here? I thought you despised this "cringey" show?" He leans his head back, sighing when his mother eases her fingers into his hair scratching at his scalp and he sighs content in her lap.

"I do. But it's too early to sleep so I have no choice but to watch this crap."

"Mom! He said crap!"

"Watch your language."

His mother scolds him immediately and Gowoon sticks out her tongue at him vindicated because he got in trouble and immaturely he does it back, tugging off her sock much to her chagrin, dodging her when she tries to kick him.

Sujin looks back and forth between them both before discretely looking at their mother, she seems shocked when all the woman does is chuckle and say, "Children please. Do I need to remind you that we have a guest?" He looks away bashfully not wanting to look childish in front of Sujin, he hadn't thought about that. That makes them settle down and he finally looks at the TV, groaning loudly when low and behold the heroine is falling again, tripping over a candy wrapper on the ground.

"She falls a lot. She should probably wear protective gear." Sujin says breaking their new silence and he chuckles at her observation, happy that someone agrees with him, excitedly he turns to her "Right! Last time she fell off a balcony!" He shouts in disbelief and suddenly they're all arguing about the feasibility of someone surviving that. His mother shaking her head fondly at them, choosing to say out of it which makes Gowoon pout because she's outnumbered.

"Okay who would you choose Unnie, the tsundere type or the bad boy with a heart of gold?" Suddenly he's very invested in her answer, he tries not to react staring at the ceiling and breathing evenly but inside his heart is thundering ready to pound out of his chest.

A few seconds drag on and he wonders if she's not going to answer, he doesn't even know why he cares so much but curiously is gripping at him. He knows that this doesn't mean anything necessarily and he's not getting his hopes up but--

"The sweet guy. He just looks like a bad boy but he's sweet to her, he never says anything mean to her. That would be nice." She answers, trailing off at the end and he hears Gowoon instantly disagreeing saying the other guy is way better, but he can barely hear his sister over the thumping of his heart in his ears, he can't help the wide smile that spreads on his face. 

He turns to hide it in his mom's lap.

It doesn't leave his face the rest of the night.

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It's getting late, she knows that it's time for her to take her leave she's been imposing on them for too long but....she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to leave, they are so warm. She's never seen a family like this outside of television shows, how was it possible that this was their real life? How could they have a mother who was that loving? Everything they did was greeted with fond exasperation, where was the reprimanding or cold backhanded words that cut like a knife?

She'd even treated her kindly, calling her sweetie more than she said her name. And she got used to it similar to how she'd gotten used to Seojun calling her princess, she knew she should fight it but she didn't want to. She was ashamed to say she liked it. 

She tries to soak it up for as long as she can before she says reluctantly, "I should probably go. it's getting late." Then she watches in a daze as the woman races off before returning with containers stacked and tied in a bag.

Before she can argue or refuse their mom is already shaking her head, "You made this so it's only right that you take it home. I won't take no for an answer." At this point that should have been the Han family motto she thinks fondly. But she accepts the food, bowing in gratitude at the simple act of kindness.

"Unnie, can I have your number? I just realized I don't have it and we're so close!" Gowoon thrusts her phone out with two hands, giving her the biggest puppy eyes she's ever seen. Without a word she accepts the phone, punching in her number before handing it back. She hadn’t realized the girl considered them close, but she finds that she doesn’t mind it at all. 

"Thank you! I'll text you so you can have my number too." The younger girl dances in celebration before grabbing her in a hug, she awkwardly pats her on the back once before she's finally set free. They're all so naturally affectionate and she's not the least bit accustomed to it, used to harsh words and slaps instead of praises and hugs.

"Get home safely sweetie. Junnie! Where did you go? Come walk her home!" She rushes to say it's okay she doesn't need an escort home, she's fine walking by herself it truly wasn't that far it turned out. But Seojun comes out of his room, changed again with a coat on and a beanie. Walking over to them he thrusts a sweater at her, when she looks blankly he replies sounding defensive, "It's probably colder now. Put this on too." He pushes it at her again firmer and she grabs it, gasping when their fingers brush.

It's a thick dark green sweater with fleece lining the interior and it smells just like his earthy cologne, she wants to give it back. Instead she puts it on over her borrowed long sleeve shirt from Suho and feels like a child playing dress up when it reaches the bottom of her knees. She knows what he's thinking when he smirks at her, she wasn't short he was just a damn giant.

She takes off the slippers and slides back into her sneakers, thankful that they're dry now. She's distracted by Seojun's heat, he's so close to her putting on his own boots. So much so she nearly misses what his mother says, "Get home safely. Please come again soon, I need more maturity in this house." Seojun and Gowoon both shout affronted but all she can see is the genuine smile on her face, she finds herself nodding throat too thick for words. When she's pulled into another hug, this time she has to blink away tears arms still by her side. She’s vibrating from keeping her emotions contained. 

They are walking side by side, the sounds of the city filling the silence that would be present. Every once in a while their arms brush but he moves away after the third time and she feels cold, more so than when the wind blows.

They're getting closer to Suho's apartment and she's wrecking her brain to find something to say to him, knowing that the ball is in her court; it always has been. She's just terrified to swing her racket. What if she misses? Or trips and embarrasses herself? It was usually better to just do nothing then you wouldn't be disappointed.

With each step she loses more courage until they are standing in front of the building and she still hasn't said anything.

Coward.

They stand awkwardly looking at the building pointedly avoiding each other and she finally speaks, "Oh your sweater! Here you go." She says stupidly, not at all what she wanted to say but she starts to pull the sweater off to commit to her exclamation. However he steps back shaking his head at her.

"It's cold. Just wear it upstairs. I'll get it later from Suho, you won't have to see me again. Go up." He sounds deflated, nothing like the animated jokester she'd seen just minutes at his apartment. It aches that she's the one making him act this way.

Then he turns around after looking at her, all of the light drained from his eyes.

He takes three large steps, putting immeasurable space between them in no time and she knows that if she lets him walk away right now he might not come back and that's a gut wrenching thought that makes her chase after him.

Thoughtlessly, she grabs his arm halting his exit from her life.

"Wait!" She shouts, but at the first touch of her hand on his forearm he's already frozen, still in her arms. He doesn't turn around. She shoots him a silent mental thank you, even if it's not his intention it's much easier to say what's on her mind like this without him facing her and her feeling too open and vulnerable. 

"I know you're the one making me food." There was supposed to be a thank you somewhere in there but instead she ends up sounding accusatory, and he tenses instantly his arm tight in her grasp.

"I'll stop. I know you told me to leave you alone. I--just. There's no excuse. I'll stop."

His voice is strained and this is going all wrong already, she's ruining everything.

Letting go of his arm, she sidesteps and brazenly moves directly in front of him. She can't keep hiding from this. She needed to be vulnerable, that was the only way he could understand.

His eyes are wet.

She gasps at the sight, not expecting it and so jealous at his ability to just feel and be seen. She was always hiding from everything. 

"Don't."

He doesn't give her a chance to finish.

"Sujin. Let me go. I know already, I know it all. I can't like you, I shouldn't get my hopes up, I need to mind my business. I know it all!" He shouts, pain marring his face but she notices how he still tugs his arm free gently, still careful about harming her even while he’s breaking down. 

She doesn’t deserve this. 

This is all her fault she knows that to be an objective truth, but the way he throws her own words back at her makes her realize how cruel she'd been while trying to spare him. She hadn't spared anything, the pain in his eyes and voice makes that abundantly clear.

"Don't stop. Don't give up on me." She finishes, staring at him with her own wet eyes, tears prickling at them.

His shoulders sink as he stares at her, lost and hesitant. 

"I'm sorry. I’m sorry for saying those things to you.  I can't promise I won't push you away again. I'm...I'm fucked up Seojun-ah. I'm a fucking mess. But I want to stop, I don't want to push people away."

I don't want to push you away. But she’s still too much of a coward to say that out loud. 

"Sujin, what-what are you trying to say?" He looks at her with guarded eyes, not yet ready to believe the words coming out of her mouth.

"I want to be friends."

She watches him wrestle with her sentence, hurt being covered up by a façade and she's not obtuse, she knows that's not the answer he was hoping for. Knows he thinks she's friend zoning and clipping the wings of his feelings.

"That's all I can deal with right now. I have a lot to work on, I need to work on me." It may seem like a cop out, an excuse but it's the most honest she's ever been with herself, it's not that she doesn't like him she might- if the way her heart thumps when he’s around says anything- but more importantly she has realized that she doesn’t like herself.

"Right now." He repeats in awe, she blinks confused before realizing the implications of her words, she starts sputtering trying to backtrack but he's too quick beating her to the punch.

"I can do friends. For now." She blushes at the beaming smile on his face, his happiness over such a small acquiesce is too much. Why did he have to wear his heart so obviously on his sleeves?

They stand simply staring at each other. Locked in the moment.

She might need to remind her heart that they'd only agreed to be friends.

For now.

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I don't like onions.

She doesn't know what possesses her to text him first, or what compels her to send that particular message. She starts googling if there's a way to unsend messages, instead finding stories from others regaling their own embarrassing messages and finding solace that she isn't alone in this feeling. 

She jumps when her phone vibrates. Slowly turning it over like it's a ticking bomb.

Of course you'd be a picky eater. Onions are good for you.

She rolls her eyes at the message, he was such a nagger.

It's not good if I don't enjoy it.

Alright princess, noted. No more onions. Are you okay with chicken teriyaki tomorrow?

She recalls the delicious chicken teriyaki he'd made for her just days ago, it was succulent and juicy and she'd fought Suho over it, reminding him that this was her food and she replies quickly.

Yes! Do you have more kimchi?

I do. I'll pack some.

She stares at the phone, in disbelief at the how easy it is to talk to him again, like there was an empty spot in her life, a Seojun shaped gap that was now filled once more. She wasn't fixed, she had meant what she told him; she couldn't examine her feelings for him yet. But she needed him in her life, he was there when she needed someone and now no one else would do.

I missed you.

[lvllns]

it don't matter to me (wherever we are is where i wanna be) [2/3]

the wayhaven chronicles. felix hauville x kincaid anderson (nb detective). teen and up rating for language. established relationship, mostly fluff with some angst. 2300+ words. (3700+ words total.) — i can be your lucky penny, you can be my four-leaf clover, chapter 2 of 3.

notes: horses! felix! kincaid! somft!

[ao3 link]

—

The walk to the barn doesn’t take nearly as long as Felix expects, it’s not as far from the house as it looks.

Kincaid chatters the whole way, mindless nonsense about the ranch mostly. Felix learns that they breed beef cattle in addition to horses, and some cows specifically for roping. He didn’t think there were specific cows for roping and when he says as much, Kincaid obliges him by explaining the importance of docile cows for rodeo. But apparently, they need to be hazed and seasoned too? They have to get used to horses and people milling about.

Really, maybe the walk doesn’t take as long as he thinks because Kincaid refuses to stop talking.

(Felix is so grateful for him. For the way he seems intent on filling the quiet with whatever he can.)

(He keeps squeezing Kincaid’s hand, grinning when the taller man pauses for a second mid-sentence to look at him with a smile.)

“Anyway, that’s—” Kincaid is cut off with a soft noise. Felix is jerked to a stop as Kincaid freezes in place, eyes going wide as saucers.

“Babe?”

Kincaid shivers. Breaks out of whatever weird trance he’s in and says, “I think that’s Leo.” He whistles. “Mare?”

Another sound, louder this time. A whinny, if Felix remembers right.

And then a red head pokes over a nearby stall door, fuzzy ears straining forward. Her face is mostly grey, but a big white star in the middle of her forehead is still clearly visible.

Felix starts toward her. Ends up dragging Kincaid along because he seems shocked to see her. They get close enough to touch and she immediately, without hesitation, whacks Kincaid in the chest with her entire head. He grunts at the impact but just leans down to touch his forehead to hers.

“You seem surprised to see her,” Felix says quietly, not wanting to break the moment.

Kincaid exhales heavily. Doesn’t lift his face as he starts scratching her neck. “She’s thirty-one years old. It’s just...a lot, to see her again.”

Ah.

That’s it.

Felix slips an arm around Kincaid’s waist. Leans into his side and kisses his shoulder before resting his head against his bicep.

“Anyway,” Kincaid says as he clears his throat. His eyes are shiny with tears and Felix reaches up to wipe a few from his cheeks. Leo has clearly had enough because she whacks Kincaid with her head again, ears flicking back and forth. He rolls his eyes. “Felix, Leo. Leo, Felix.”

Despite all the new white hairs, she looks almost the same as she does in the pictures scattered around Kincaid’s apartment. Where she’s shiny as a copper penny with saddles, buckles, and ribbons around her. Where she’s belly deep in a river, Kincaid sitting on her without any tack. An entire life story between the two of them laid out in photographs on apartment walls, and now Felix is able to meet her.

She extends her nose, nostrils flaring as she sniffs Felix. He chuckles. Reaches out and pets her muzzle.

“Oh, she’s soft!” Felix steps closer, hand moving to scratch at her forehead. She presses into his touch with a quiet snuffle, upper lip wiggling. He can feel Kincaid’s thumb moving over the back of his neck, something repetitive and soothing. “I like her.”

Kincaid laughs. “Good, ‘m glad.” Leo, apparently tired of being pet, snorts and then turns back to the hay in the corner. Kincaid leans on the stall door, elbows crossed. “Real glad you got to meet ‘er.”

Felix slips a hand into Kincaid’s back pocket. “Me too.” He bumps his hip against Kincaid. Grins up at him when he looks over.

“Come on, let’s go put our bag upstairs,” Kincaid says, voice gone soft. He reaches out. Takes Felix’s hand in his and kisses his knuckles. His palm. His wrist. Right over his pulse where it thunders against his skin. “Someone’ll come lookin’ for us soon I’m sure.”

He nods. Tugs and pulls until Kincaid leans down and kisses him, smiling into it. One becomes two and then three before Felix pulls away. He can hear footsteps, the crunch of gravel underneath boots, and he tells Kincaid as much. They slip into a room full of various pieces of tack, saddles and bridles hanging neatly along the walls, and then he’s being led up a set of stairs. The door at the top swings open and—

“Holy shit,” Felix mutters, eyes wide. Kincaid snorts, head tilting to the side. “It’s as big as your place.”

“Were you expectin’ a closet?” He tosses the bag down on a dining chair.

Felix looks around and shrugs. “Nothing like this, that’s for sure.”

It’s huge. Bright. Modern even. It’s an actual apartment above the barn and not some tiny room with a cot. The windows are open, fresh air and sunlight streaming in, and he takes another deep breath.

Somewhere below, a horse whinnies. Kincaid hums and takes Felix’s hand again, lacing their fingers together. “Ready to meet everyone else?”

“Hell yeah.”

Kincaid grins, dimples visible, and they head down back into the barn. They’re barely out of the tack room when: “There he is!”

An older man, hair and beard gone mostly grey, is standing in the middle of the aisleway, a grin on his face. Kincaid’s face breaks as he smiles wide, so wide, and Felix half expects him to rush off alone but he keeps Felix close to his side.

“Good to see you, kid,” the man says. He shifts, leans his shoulder against the wall. “Been a bit.”

Kincaid snorts. “Month or so, yeah.” He finally drops Felix’s hand so he can all but swallow the other man in a hug. It’s brief, a few pats on the back, and then Kincaid is back at his side, hand finding his once more. “Jason, this is Felix. Felix, Jason.”

Jason nods. Holds out his hand and Felix isn’t the tiniest bit surprised to find it rough and calloused, when he takes it. “Glad to finally meet you. Kincaid never stops talkin’ ‘bout you.”

“Oh?” He turns, brow arched, and finds Kincaid looking straight ahead, cheeks pink. “Good things, I hope.”

“Never a bad word.” Another smile but it’s...something. Knowing, Felix thinks. Like Jason is seeing things Kincaid and Felix are too close to each other to notice. It makes his heart trip in his chest. “Anyway, everyone else is grabbin’ horses, and we’ve got some steers that need seasoning. You wanna bulldog, kid?”

And oh, the way Kincaid lights up. Every bit of him flares like a firework. Still, he squeezes Felix’s hand and shakes his head. “I’m happy watchin’, don’t wanna leave Felix by himself.”

Felix blinks. “Oh no, nope.” Kincaid startles. Looks at him with wide eyes, confused. “We drove all the way out here, you have all those pictures hanging up, I want to see you in action.”

It’s delightful the way his partner goes bright red from the tips of his ears down his neck. Felix knows from experience he’s a full body blusher. Knows that his chest is red with it, freckles vanishing beneath the flood of color.

“You sure?” Kincaid shuffles his feet. “I really don’t want you to feel left out or—”

“God you two,” Jason mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You wanna ride, Felix?”

“What?” Now it’s his turn to be confused. “Like...a horse?”

Jason snorts. Rolls his eyes to stare at the ceiling for a moment before he meets Felix’s eyes. “Yeah, we have broke horses here. If you want to, we can get one tacked up for you.”

“Yes!” Felix smiles wide, grip tightening where he’s still holding Kincaid’s hand. “Please!” He rocks on the balls of his feet.

“That’s settled then.” Jason turns to Kincaid. Squeezes his shoulder briefly before letting go. “Sailor is two stalls down from Leo, grab him for Felix. You get French Fry.”

Felix is so stuck on a horse being named French Fry that he misses the last part of the conversation. Kincaid tugs on his hand and they head down the barn aisle until they reach a stall with a big grey horse in it. It’s quick work, a soft cluck and the creaking of metal as the stall is unlocked, and then Felix is holding a rope in his hands with Sailor on the other end.

Kincaid gets them both situated near the tack room, Felix’s ride for the day standing quietly with one hind leg cocked, eyes half-closed, as he brushes him. He watches as Kincaid mutters to himself. Picks up different bits of tack before setting it back down. There’s a pile growing outside near where the horses are tied up. Boots, blanket things to go under the saddle, really confusing tangles of leather that Felix thinks goes on the horse’s face.

It’s a lot of stuff he doesn’t quite understand yet, pieces of Kincaid’s life that remind Felix he’s new here. A recent development. Part of him is yelling that he’s an interloper, he shouldn’t be here and he’s only making it more difficult for Kincaid.

He shakes his head. Grits his teeth and chases that train of thought far, far away, as he focuses on listening to Kincaid’s explanation of each piece of equipment. Kincaid’s own horse is alert, ears pricked forward and eyes tracking the taller man. He’s also a gleaming gold with bright white hair, a big white stripe down his face, and white on all four of his legs.

They talk about everything and nothing as Kincaid gets both horses tacked up. Felix wolf whistles when he throws the saddles up onto the horses, and is rewarded with one flying right off the opposite side of Sailor, hitting the dirt with a thud. By the end of it, Kincaid’s face is pink, his eyes blown, and Felix knows he’s been staring at his arms for too long. There’s a thread of tension, something wavering just a little, and it almost snaps except someone yells Kincaid’s name and the moment is gone.

Felix is walking around the arena on a big grey horse, and he feels...he feels like he belongs here. That part of him insisting that he should be back in Wayhaven is silent now. Kincaid is at his side, helping Felix adjust his position so his feet aren’t sticking way out in front of him, and he’s grateful for the boots Kincaid had bought him a few months ago. Jason had smiled at him. Another younger man, Jordan, had waved. Someone else had given him a thumbs up, and he’s trying to keep names straight with faces but he can’t help getting distracted by the warm feeling at how quickly he’s been accepted into this family.

He reaches down to pat Sailor’s neck before he turns his head to look (up, it’s still up) at Kincaid. “Shouldn’t you go, I don’t know, run around a little bit?”

Kincaid snorts. “Yeah, I gotta warm ‘im up, but I just want to make sure you’re okay first.”

Felix flaps a hand at him. “I’m fine. Sailor’s no unicorn, but he likes me so I don’t think I’ll get kicked off.”

“You need me, just holler,” Kincaid says.

It takes another nod, another promise to tell him if he needs anything at all, before Kincaid speeds up and leaves Felix to himself. It’s nice, really, being able to slowly meander around and observe. He’s always enjoyed that. Watching. He’s Unit Bravo’s infiltration expert for a reason after all. There’s a flow to everything here. Horses moving around each other, cattle banging around in the pens and gates. People shouting back and forth, good-natured ribbing. It reminds him of Unit Bravo. Of the way they’ve all come together over the last few years.

He’s watching Kincaid lope around, smiling and laughing, and Felix is so lost in him that he doesn’t even realize Jason is riding next to him until the older man clears his throat. Felix jolts, careful not to yank the reins, and flashes the man a sheepish smile.

“He’s a good person,” Jason says with a nod toward Kincaid.

Felix can’t stop his eyes from drifting back to his partner. “He is. He’s something really special.”

“I don’t know what he’s all told you about his childhood, but he...had a time of it.”

“He’s told me a bit. Not all of it, I don’t think, but...enough.”

Jason hums. “He used to drive out here every chance he could after we moved the family here.” Felix blinks. It’s hours to get here. Hours. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinkin’, and yeah. Hell, he’d show up on Friday evening and wouldn’t leave until late Sunday night. Then he left for college and he still drove out here once a week, at least.” Jason turns in his saddle to look Felix in the eyes. “He’s a part of this family, a big part, and he’s never brought anyone here. Ever.”

Felix swallows as he pulls Sailor to a halt. “I…”

“This ain’t me tryin’ to scare you, son, this is me tellin’ you that you’re part of this family now too.” Jason eases his horse to a stop, a gentle smile on his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that kid this happy.”

Well.

He doesn’t know what to do with this. Felix looks down at his hands. Finds them shaking, just a little bit. He curls his fingers around the reins and nods. “Thank you.”

A hand claps down on his shoulder. Squeezes and stays put as Jason says, “‘Course.” He grins, wide and toothy. “Now, come on. They’re gonna start throwin’ steers and you need a front row seat for this.”

Felix smiles up at him. Squeezes his legs until Sailor dutifully follows after the other horse. He watches Kincaid haul himself up onto his horse from the ground, eyes watching his shoulders and back, before he blinks and settles in to watch.

When Kincaid winks at him from the chute, cheeks a little pink and heart racing beneath his ribs, something settles in Felix’s chest, and he feels at peace.

[steeltoss]

Pre Shippuden — Shippuden Era

Ages 16 - 22. This is a continuation of the events in Hokkaido's life.

Age 16

I left off on her six month mission in Konohagakure. Backtracking a few months before she turned sixteen, she worked directly under Tsunade Senju amd had slowly reconnected with her old friends, including Neji Hyūga, Kiba Inuzuka, Ino Yamanaka, Sakura Haruno, Shikamaru Nara, and Choji Akamichi.

That being said, her sixteenth birthday was spent in the Hidden Leaf. The party was small and planned by Ino, complete with a few cupcakes and dango. This was the first birthday she enjoyed after Emi passed away.

Speaking of Emi, Hokkaido constantly worried over Ichika and often wrote letters to the younger one. After all, next year Ichika would start the Amegakure Academy.

Aside from her mission, nothing too big happened this year. Though she found out Sasuke was missing. He had become a Rogue Ninja. Okay that's pretty big but still.

Age 17

Upon her journey towards Amegakure after the six months had passed, the Kunoichi had taken it into her own hands to search for Sasuke. She strayed off the path she should have been taking to go to the Hidden Rain Village.

From here, she runs into some nasty company.

This was the first time she met Pein and Konan. And they looked like they were ready to end her.

Upon activating her sharingan, interest was sparked in her by Pein. She was spared on one condition. Well a few, but one big one.

She was to join the Akatsuki, accept the Rogue life and abandon her old life. This would mean abandoning the Hidden Rain and Ichika.

But on the other hand, maybe she could find Sasuke. She had no clue just how wrong she was. But she agreed nonetheless.

So she was taken back to the base, fron there, she met the other members.

Okay don't kill me but here's what happens when she first meets the Akatsuki: [her opinion and relationships will change over time]

Pein: Of course when they first met, she was intimidated and activated her sharingan, but being spared and hopefully brought closer to her brother, she would do anything he asked, for now at least.

Konan: Seeing her special skills, Hokkaido was intimidated but wouldn't admit so. She seems to be the only female here.

Deidara: I'm sorry Dei, but my little angel thought you were a very beautiful lady until you spoke the first time. Needless to say, she was rather shocked but admired his hair and explosives anyway.

Kakuzu: one word. Fear. This man is huge and crazy tall, also his personality reminds her of what its like to bite into a crabapple.

Hidan: she admired his dedication, but didn't like how he greeted her with “Fuck, there's another one? At least this one has a decent rack”. She punched him. And threatened his life only to find out he's immortal.

Tobi: well, he's very hyper and welcoming at least, but she wondered why he wore that mask.

Kisame: is he a man? Shark? Man-Shark? Either way, she kept a distance and admired his strength from afar.

Sasori: puppets are completely and utterly horrifying and she wanted nothing to do with this weird puppet man. Until she saw how red his hair was and her cheeks dusted a pale pink. It reminded her of someone she met a few years ago.

Itachi: . . . Her brother. Her brother, who had killed the clan was in the Akatsuki. Upon seeing him, she wondered if it was too late to leave the Akatsuki. She rurned her nose away and sighed.

Zetsu: “are you a. . . Big, adorable plant man?” i think it's safe to say Zetsu stared at her and quite possibly closed his trap around himself to save himself the embarrassment or black Zetsu threatening to eat her.

Back to Age 17

Sasuke wasn't with them, and she felt like shutting down completely. She was now at square one again. She had hoped this was her ticket to helping her brother, but ahe didnt know he didn't want help.

And honestly, you can't help someone who doesn't want any help.

Aside from her mind overworking, she now had to face Itachi as he was staring her down.

“hey, Itachi... ”

From there, the two walked around as he explained what really happened that day. She was torn. The Leaf had ordered this massacre?

Maybe she wasn't ready to go home after all.

Age 18

On her eighteenth birthday, she had spent her very first one with Itachi in nine years, and she oncr again, was crying those sappy happy little tears.

She never really expected a group of terrorists to the villages to get her gifts, yet they had.

Konan had gotten her a pair of fingerless gloves; Hokkaido appreciated the gesture because her hands were usually cold and Konan usually got things she needed or wanted anyway as the two had become closer.

Kisame had given her her very first katana, which, she undeniably adored the gesture; and she was extremely pink cheeked, she wasn't in love with him but she really liked his caring and understanding attitude.

Tobi had gotten her a mask to match his, which she never would wear; instead, she retaliated with offering to share dango with him instead. Which results in him squealing.

Sasori had claimed he didn't give a damn about things she wanted but still placed a small wooden figure of well, GAARA, in front of her; which led to the idea he had read her diary and had fully embarrassed her. But this little figure was different. Gaara was dressed as the Kazekage.

Deidara had picked her up some paint; remembering she hsd spent endless nights she couldn't sleep to paint her ceilinv and walls, and was out of it.

Zetsu uh, well, gave her a few seeds for flowers. It was for a joke since he figured she would never use them, but she held o to them. Just wait. These gifts will be brought up later.

Kakuzu, and i can't stress this enough, didn't do shit.

Hidan, on the other hand, tried offering immortality if she converted to jashinism.

Itachi had saved his for last. He had gotten her a journal and pens, as well as her stuffed panda from Amegakure.

A part of being an official member of the Akatsuki meant missions. And she had completed several, but what made her panic would be the one where the hunt for Jinchuuriki began.

It was a silent battle with herself. She had already dedicated herself to the Akatsuki but she knew two Jinchuuriki. Gaara and Naruto.

The day Gaara's One Tail was extracted, she covered her mouth upon hearing those certain words.

“He's dead”.

As if she had been hoping her life wouldn't get worse, she had already made up her mind. She really, really despised Deidara now. And she knew she would be killed if she straight up abandoned post.

However, on her next solo mission, she managed to leave a scroll for the Hokage and wanted word passed silently between the Five Kage's. She was playing both sides as of now, but desperately wanted out.

Would they believe her?

No. Not yet at least.

Age 19

Silence. She had succumbed herself with silence, almost like a vow she had taken. Deidara, Sasori, they were dead and war was coming.

She promised herself she would hate Deidara for what he did to Gaara, but she couldn't help but feel pity. Deidara was only a teenager when he died. [I think he was nineteen?]

With the Fourth Shinobi War coming, she was scared. Having no idea what to even do, Hokkaido assumed she would die.

Because I'm a lil bitch, I'm making you wait until she turns 20 for more details.

Age 20

The Akatsuki was no more. Almost all had died, and Hokkaido felt a slight empty feeling in her heart as she sat in front of the Five Kage's.

This was judgement. Would she be allowed to repent and become a better person or be banished forever, or die? Her mind was going wild.

Though, she couldn't help the feeling of ease as she saw Gaara, the Kazekage and boy she used to know, standing and perfectly fine.

“During the time of my extraction, I could see she wanted nothing to do with the Akatsuki organization. She looked almost forced to be there”.

The words Gaara spoke made her face turn pink and look away. Why was he trying to help her when she had fallen into the wrong group of people?

As if she hadn't already felt like she had succumbed herself in a repetitive cycle of falling for Gaara each day she thought about it, him helping her only dragged her deeper into the pit.

And Kami, he was so beautiful.

“and I'd like to offer that if you don't trust her, that's fine. She can return to Suna with me and Kankurō. She can build herself from there”.

So she moves to Suna and begins working on herself as a person, much of the things she had thought about was the very questions Gaara had asked along the way.

“why help me?” she had asked, the gaze he gave her was hard but he responded with: “you aren't the only one who was in the wrong. It would be wrong of anyone to not let you change yourself. I was given a chance and was once feared and hated, so can you answer this for me, do you wamt to live? Do you want to start a new beginning? If so, keep walking with us”.

And so she walked.

Age 21

Life in Suna was much different than the Hidden Rain or Leaf. Not many people would contact her or look her way for the first few days. After all she was an outsider and reformed terrorist.

Hokkaido had grown close to Temari once more, as well as Kankurō. These two, when free, helped her with the adjustment.

Hokkaido had left Amegakure behind, the ache in her heart subsiding as she realized Ichika had grown into a decent young child and chose to not become a shinobi, considering shinobi had too many hardships and heartaches to deal with.

As for Gaara, the two often spent time gardening and cultivating cacti.

Something from the past had finally been planted. The flower seeds Zetsu had given her way back on her birthday spent with the Akatsuki.

The katana that Kisame had given her was placed on a display.

Her Traditional Japanese Sword Display

The katana which is the most recognized full sized samurai sword and is often the first piece in any collection. It sits at the bottom and has a beautiful violet ito handle wrap.

The second would be the wakizashi which is a mid-sized sword that resembles the katana and the ito handle wrap was midnight blue.

Then the third which is a tanto. The tanto is the shortest of the swords or in many examples can be as short as today's standard survival styled knife. The ito wrap is black.

This is an example of how the stand is:

Age 21

The mask Tobi had given her had brought up bitter memories and had long sense been tossed into a storage box.

Her fingerless gloves had been destroyed during the war, but since she used them for swordplay, Temari had gotten her a new pair as a gift.

The wooden figure Sasori had given her of Gaara was more or less embarassing since she lived with the sand siblings and had hidden it away in the storage box.

Her panda sat on her bed, displayed and untouched except for during the night.

Age 22

Upon the next year, Hokkaido watched as relationships blossomed between many people, marriages and children coming into the world, she began wondering if she would ever have something like this in her own life. She highly doubted it.

Having been back and forth from Konohagakure, she grew closer to Shikamaru once more from childhood as she often joined the male and Temari on days they'd spend time together.

Other times, Hokkaido would stick to Kankurō and help with making puppets, she rather enjoyed painting them.

And occasionally, when Gaara was free, the two would still garden together and had began talking more, sometimes the two would even go out to the village and walk around together.

Her feelings for Gaara seemed to only hrow stronger as she had grown older, and she imagined herself having a future with him. It always made her heart hammer and her face turn blood red.

This year, she had cut most of her hair off to her shoulders as it had grown too long. She soon admits her feelings to Gaara, unsurprisingly, he was silent.

She most definitely assumed she blew it, but nearly a week later, Gaara had shyly asked if she would allow him to court her.

This was most definitely the beginning of a new and beautiful relationship.

I'll pick up with pre boruto - boruto era soon. Though im not sure if these are even good. @temarihime @thefifthkazekage @how-troublesome @houndninja

[ayu-shiridara]

Fall pt.3 (George Weasley X Reader)

Hello, so I just hope you like it. If you're interested to read part 1 and part 2

Summer holidays are the best. But this summer you're not staying at the burrow because Fleur and Bill are staying there. And Fred and George are in their shop. You're currently staying with Lupin and Tonks. You can't go to Diagon Alley because you're on the Animagus process. You don't leave your room for a month and haven't seen George. You missed him so much. But you don't want to repeat the process of being an Animagus process again. Plus you're doing it illegally with the help of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Even George doesn't know about this. A month having a leaf of mandrake on your mouth. Today is you're all expecting for an electrical storm. You're reciting a chant of incantation for millions of times with the tip of your wand placed over your heart. Thankfully you didn't fall to recite it. Finally, the storm came and the last lighting struck you are placed in a large secure room and recited the chant incantation.

"Amato Animo Animato Animagus, " you said and drank the potion.

And you transformed into a bird. A Eurasian magpie. You suddenly recall George's Patronus. You flew around the room and transform back into witch form.

"Well done (Y/N), " Remus said happily

"We're so proud of you, " Tonks said

"Thank you, I wouldn't accomplish it without your help, " You said

"You have to stay for a week to train your new achievement, " Remus said

You're euphoric right now. Happiness can't be described in words. After a week of training, Remus sent you to Leaky Cauldron to enjoy your remaining days of summer vacation. After dinner, you receive an owl from a close friend of yours.

(Y/N) I'm going to Joke Shop tomorrow wanna come with me? Going to check the twins Mrs Weasley asked me to, and I have news to announce. If you will come, meet me at Ollivanders.

Levi Kreisten

Finally, you will be able to see George again. You were so excited about tomorrow. The next day you went down to have your breakfast and change to comfortable dress. You went to Ollivanders and saw a familiar figure, a girl with different eye colours, wearing a blouse skirt and coat. You can see her usual emotionless face.

"Let's go, " she said calmly.

You nodded and both of you walked to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. You entered the shop and saw a lot of products placed neatly on the shelves. A lot of costumers are examining the products.

"Ladies, what can I do for you?" You heard a voice from behind said.

"Freddie, I missed you, " you said and hugged him.

"Oh, it's you two, I missed you too (Y/N), " Fred said and hugged you back.

"Georgie, look who we have here, special shoppers, " Fred yelled.

Suddenly another redhead appeared out of nowhere. It's George your boyfriend. You longed his presence for months. You excitedly hugged him. And snog him in front of Fred and Levi. You don't care anymore you missed him so much. You longed for his touch.

"Children cover your eyes, " Fred yelled.

You rolled your eyes and smiled at George.

"Where have you been? I haven't heard anything from you for a month, " He said.

"Sorry Georgie I will explain it to you later," you said.

"What brings you here?" George asked Levi raising an eyebrow.

"In the one who invited (Y/N) to come with me here to see you and you're going to ask me what brings me here with that kind of gaze, you ungrateful swine," Levi said and glared at George.

You're not really planning to visit George today because you're tired. Levi is right she's the reason why you're here at the Joke Shop.

"Calm down woman, " Fred said.

"Sorry and thanks, " George said and smiled at her.

"Why don't you go upstairs and spend some time together, but don't ever think about having -, " Fred said but Levi hit him hard not finishing his sentence.

You already knew what he means. Of course, you know that you're too young to do such a thing.

"He's right, don't worry about the shop I'll fill your duty with this git for today, " Levi said.

You nodded and George leads you upstairs to their flat.

"This is amazing, " you said in astonishment.

"I know right. It's because of your brilliant boyfriend, " George said proudly.

"It's more believable if you said 'because of your brilliant boyfriend's twin, " you said teasingly.

He rolled his eyes playfully and you hit him lightly. You two sat on the settee while your head is resting on his chest and his arms on your waist.

"Where have you been?" George asked.

"With Lupin and Tonks, " you replied shortly.

"And what did you do there?" George asked curiously.

"Animagus, I'm an unregistered animagus, " you whispered to his ear.

"Did you really?" George asked.

"Yes, love, " you said and grinned at him.

"Breaking one of the wizarding rule eh?" George said.

You didn't say a word and move closer to him. The tip of your nose is touching. George lay down the couch and now you're at the top of him. You move closer and pressed your lips into his. You crave for his lips. His touch everything about him. He moves his lips to your neck and placed kisses on it. You switched places now he's on top of you. Suddenly the door swung open revealing Levi and Fred. You accidentally pushed George making him fell on the floor because you're shocked.

"Blimey, I told you not to make any funny business, " Fred yelled.

He helped George get up.

"You're overreacting Freddie, " George said.

"We're not going to do that stuff, " you said.

"Fix yourselves were going out for lunch, " Levi said.

"Lunch?" George asked.

"Yes? Do you reckon we're going to wait downstairs and starve ourselves?" Levi said.

"We have groceries on the refrigerator, let's just cook something for lunch, " George suggested.

"Do you know how to cook?" You asked George.

"Of course I can cook, " George said proudly.

"Oh really, " Levi said and went to the kitchen limping.

"Why are you limping?" Fred asked and followed her.

"Come on love, " Georgie said.

You extended your arms and George carried you to the kitchen placing you down on one of the dining chairs.

"I'm going to help, " you said.

But you don't know how to cook. Fred was helping Levi. Minutes passed both Levi and George looked disgruntled. Because you and Fred burnt the meat.

"What a terrible cook you are, " Levi and George both said.

You and Fred laughed at those two. You decided to just sit down and watch them.

"George, fix that burnt meat, " Levi said.

After an hour the lunch is finally served. While eating your lunch George whispered something to your ear.

"We're going to leave a love potion on the counter let's find out the secret of this two, " George whispered to your ear.

Fred noticed that George is saying something to you so he kicked George's leg. George did the same but he kicked the wrong leg. Levi winced in pain.

"Ouch, that's my leg, " Levi said.

"What's wrong with you? You're limping and you look a bit peaky." You said.

"It's nothing, " Levi replied.

"You said you're going to tell us something, " you said.

"Ah! I'm going to train as an Auror next month, " she said.

"Are you sure you can?" George asked teasingly.

"Of course I can, " Levi said glaring at George.

You noticed that Fred's face suddenly change. He looked unhappy.

"What's with that face?" You asked Fred.

"Aren't you happy for her?" George said.

"I am! I'm delighted that she will achieve her dreams someday, " Fred said and faked a smiled.

After lunch, Fred and Levi are cleaning the table, you and George went downstairs and opened a love potion in one of the shelves near the counter. You grabbed an extendable ear and went upstairs.

"We're going downstairs to assist the costumers, have fun lovers, " Fred said.

Levi and Fred left the room and closed the door. You and George went to the stairs and used the extendable ears.

"I bet Levi will notice it before Fred does, "You said.

"No, my Freddie will notice it first, " George said.

"You owe me 10 galleons of Levi noticed it first, " You said.

"And you owe me 10 galleons if Freddie noticed it first, " George said

You opened the extendable ears and listen to the noise downstairs.

"Why does this shop smells weird did you spill your perfume all over the place?" Levi asked Fred.

"You owe me 10 galleons, darling, " you whispered to George's ear.

"Did not, you're the one who spills your perfume all over the shop, " Fred complained.

"Definitely not!" Levi told him.

You and George are laughing hard silently. It's confirmed that those two fancies each other.

"Wait is that a love potion?" Levi said pointing the love potion you opened on the shelf near the counter.

Levi looked upstairs and noticed the extendable ears. She saw both of you and George laughing. Then she grabbed the daily prophet on the counter and rolled it. You and George immediately pulled the extendable ears and run inside the flat and closed the door.

"I'm going to kill you, gits, " Levi said.

"Georgie how could you set us up, " Fred said.

After a few minutes, you heard silence. You and George went downstairs and saw Levi and Fred busy assisting and entertaining the costumers. Cracking jokes sharing laughter with the children and teenagers. You and George joined them. Enjoying every moment the day finally ends and George asked you to stay in their flat for the night because Fred is going to the Burrow.

"Once again no funny business okay, " Fred said and left the store with Levi.

You and George went upstairs and rested on the couch.

"D'you reckon we should close the shop for now?" George asked.

"I don't think so, maybe when the students go back to Hogwarts, this shop is amazing, remember what Professor Dumbledore said 'Happiness can be found even in the darkest of time if one only remembers to turn on the light' this shop is one of the lights in the dark and you turned it on that's why people, children, teens they love your shop because it's their happiness, does that make sense?" You said.

George smiled at you.

"Thanks, love, " He said and buried his face on your shoulder. Both of you stayed like this until you fell asleep.

The following day Fred went back to the shop early. Before you went back to the Leaky Cauldron you help them fix some stuff.

"Fred I will go with (Y/N), I'll come back before the shop opens, " George yelled.

"Sure, " Fred replied.

Both you and George went to the Leaky Cauldron. The owner said that the Leaky Cauldron will be temporarily closed. Because they are afraid that the Dark Lord might come and take their lives.

"Where will I stay?" You asked yourself.

"That's not a problem love, you can stay at our flat, " George said.

"But-" before you finish you words George cut you off.

"No buts, come on let's pack your things, " George said and grabbed your hand.

He helped you pack your things and you walked back to the Joke Shop.

"You're back!" Fred said.

"Yeah, the Leaky Cauldron kicked everyone out, " George sighed.

"So you're staying here? That's fine you can stay in my room, " Fred said.

"Pardon?" You said.

"You can stay at Freddie's room, he'll be leaving tonight and stay at the Burrow, " George said.

"What about the shop?" You asked.

"I'm sure you two can handle it, and before you go back to Hogwarts we will close it until the war ends, " Fred said.

"Yeah, we will stay at the Burrow on your last week, " George said.

"The others will visit the shop tomorrow, " Fred said.

"Come on darling let's fix your stuff upstairs," George said.

You nodded and head upstairs. The following day the Weasleys arrive the shop with Harry and Hermione.

"When did you get here?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"Yesterday, the Leaky Cauldron kicked everyone out for a good reason, " you said.

"Why don't you stay at the Burrow?" Ginny asked.

"I'm doing fine staying with the Twins, " You said.

"(Y/N)!" Hermione exclaimed giving you a hug.

You hugged her back and give Harry and Ron a hug too.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked.

"I live with Professor Lupin and Tonks for a month, " You said.

You noticed that George and Fred disappear from the crowded store. You're wondering where he went.

--

The following week you and George arrive at the Burrow. You placed your belongings in Ginny's room. It's nightfall and everyone was outside. Only Mr and Mrs Weasley are inside. You want go out but Mrs Weasley told you not to. You can hear Levi's voice scolding the twins. While the others are laughing. You want to go outside badly.

"(Y/N) dear, change your clothes and wait for someone to go and fetch you upstairs okay, " Mrs Weasley said and handed you a dress.

What are these clothes for? You were confused at this moment. You don't know what's going on. A minute after changing your clothes someone entered the room. It's Ginny, Hermione, Fleur and Levi.

"Ready?" Ginny asked.

"Ready for what?" You replied curiously.

Levi blindfolded you and they lead you downstairs.

When you removed the blindfold you're at the forest where you and George used to walk every morning.

"How did I get here?" You asked yourself.

No one was there except for a Crookshanks. You followed him and he leads you to a tree. A glowing tree. Suddenly George appeared out of nowhere. Handing you a rose.

"My Lady, " he said.

Romantic music played and he grabbed your hands and placed on his shoulder while placing his hands on your waist. You two started to dance.

"What is this for?" You asked him.

"I planned this for months, " he said grinning at you.

After the romantic dance, he knelt in front of you pulling a small box from his pocket.

"(Y/N)(L/N) you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I fell for you since the day you literally fall on me. I know we're still young for this but I want the world to know that you're mine, " he said.

You're speechless and don't know what to say.

"(Y/N) I love you so much, can't even imagine my life without you. I want to do this before the war. Will you marry me?" He said and opened the box revealing a ring.

Tears of joy stream down your face. Seeing the man you love in front of you proposing is the best thing that happened to your life.

"Yes, " you said.

He placed the ring in your finger and kissed you. After the proposal, you and George head back to the burrow. You can see the busy Weasleys with Potter, Granger and Kreisten setting the table.

"We're back!" George announced.

"So?" Mrs Weasley said.

"I said yes!" You said happily.

Everyone cheered. Everyone was happy.

"You're officially a member of Weasley family, " Mrs Weasley said.

Fred who was opening a fire whiskey was scolded by Mrs Weasley.

"Frederick Weasley put that down, underage wizards can't drink that, " Mrs Weasley yelled.

"But mum we're not underage, " Fred said.

"No, no liquor for tonight, " Mrs Weasley said.

You and George laughed at him.

"Welcome to the family sister in law, " Fred said and winked at you.

You all settled down and have your dinner. This was the best night ever.

[madphantom]

The Sound of Life - Chapter 24

"Winslow, what happened?" Phoenix rushed to his side when he stumbled in. "Where have you been?"

"Lilson lost his mind." Winslow was breathing heavily and leaned against the wall.

"What?" Phoenix was shocked.

"He lost it. He went apeshit. Emmy and I found him. We wanted to talk to him about Rock Night...Emmy called the ambulance."

"Why are you so calm about this?", Phoenix whispered. "Why are you so calm?!!", she suddenly screamed at Winslow. "Are you happy? Are you secretly rejoycing because the last thing that reminded you of Swan is gone?! I'll tell you something, Winslow: Melody was not a thing. Melody was a person. And Melody was not Swan."

"I never thought so Phoenix and you know."

"Then where are your tears?! Winslow, all you think of is that accursed cantata you're writing!", Phoenix shouted. "You bastard only see and hear music! I'm telling you something: If you didn't love my child, you won't love your child either."

"What?"

She looked at him. "I'm pregnant, Winslow. But you don't deserve this child. I'm taking it with me, to a better life, without you and your music."

She grabbed her rucksack and started to stuff it with clothes.

"Phoenix, what are you doing?"

"I'm leaving." She glared at him. "And I'm not coming back until you burn that bewitched score."

"Phinny...!"

"Bye, Winslow. Have fun composing." She slammed the door shut.

He leafed through the pages. Six hundred sixty-six sheets of music. Wonderful music. Fueled by rage and grief. By far the best thing he had ever composed. Lucifer was finished and it was grand.

But at what cost?

Winslow looked into the candle flame. For a split second he thought he could see a distant smile in it. A malevolent smile.

The cat - Siri - slipped into the room. She meowed at him. What a bad father her yellow eyes seemed to say.

Suddenly Winslow made a decision. He got up, picked up the candle and walked over to the bedroom. The cat followed.

There he sat down in front of the mirror. "I know you're watching me," he whispered, looking his reflection in the eye. "I know who you are. I've seen you in Swan's recording. I signed a contract, you know. Time to talk about it."

Suddenly his reflection smiled and bowed it's head. "Well, if you insist, Winslow Leach."

"I do insist."

The smile widened. "Then let's talk."

Suddenly Winslow found himself in a red room, similar to the backstage of the Paradise. He shuddered when he realized that he was in hell.

A mirror was hanging on the wall. Winslow walked over to it and looked at his reflection.

What he saw shocked him.

His scars were gone. His skin was of a ghostly translucent white. Eight immense black wings grew out of his back. The white of his eyes was black.

"Welcome, your majesty," a voice said and Winslow turned around.

A shadow was leaning against the wall. It was literally just a shadow, a concentrated spot of darkness among the red.

"I guess you're supposed to be the devil."

"I go by many names."

"Are you mocking me?", Winslow asked.

The shadow laughed. "I would never. No, I'm just welcoming you in hell. You've come a long way."

"What is this?" Winslow gesticulated at the wings.

"Your hell prince form. You're lucky, Winslow. There will only be seven princes of hell. This century is a good one. Three of my hell princes came from it." The shadow chuckled. "Follow me."

Suddenly Winslow found himself in a circular red room. Seven thrones surrounded him. Two were empty.

The blue one and the red one.

The shadow next to him sighed. "Too bad. Loki was going to be a wonderful hell prince. But sadly his love for Melody was stronger."

Winslow frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He terminated his own contract." The shadow chuckled again.

"We have been expecting you," the hell prince on the white throne said. He had long fair hair, golden eyes and eight white wings. Swan. He smiled and presented pointy teeth.

"Hi Swan. Last time I saw you I stabbed you, didn't I?"

"That is correct. It was difficult indeed to persuade the master of shadows to grant me my rank. But now - here I am." He opened a pair of his wings.

"I offer you a deal, Winslow" the shadow whispered. "Give me Phoenix. Give me a hell princess." The red throne suddenly turned emerald green, the colour of Phoenix' eyes. "Give me her soul and you will have an immortal queen by your side - rulers of hell forever."

The shadow suddenly turned into a green sillhouette. The sillhouette of a woman with curly long hair and eight wings. She laughed.

Winslow took a look around, wondering whether he'd recognize any of the other hell princes. He immediately did. On the copper throne sat a prince whose eyes were completely copper, without any whites, and whose eight wings were of the same shimmering reddish brown. His long hair was slick and as black as coal. It was a little surprising to see him without his trademark moustache, but it was obvious who this man was:

Adolf Hitler.

He smirked a little when he saw the shock in Winslow's eyes.

On his left was a grey throne. The man on it had a narrow cruel face, grey wings and blank white eyes. Winslow didn't recognize him at first, but then he spotted dozens of dark silver stains on his toga and realized it was Caesar.

Next to him, on a purple throne, sat a hell prince with long dark hair and cold purple eyes. Vlad the Impaler. And on the last throne, which was of a dark orange, was Stalin. Josef fucking Stalin.

"I don't want to," Winslow suddenly said.

The green sillhouette turned back into the shadow. "What?"

"I don't want to be some kind of hell prince. I don't want to. I don't want Phoenix to be some kind of hell princess. And she wouldn't want it either."

"You're making a mistake."

"You're lining me up with Hitler...Vlad the Impaler...Swan here. I'm not a good person, and I made many mistakes, but I certainly won't make the mistake of ruling hell with...monsters!" Winslow looked at the shadow and then, to prove his point, pulled his knife out of his pocket.

"What are you doing?!", the shadow stuttered.

Winslow grabbed one of his wings and with a yell of pain cut it off. The pain was so strong he saw his life flashing before his eyes. His childhood. Playing in the woods of Dunphy. Bullies pushing him on the floor. His sisters protecting him. Emmy, sitting on the bed and listening while he played his music for her.

The second one followed. Winslow vividly saw the moment when he'd found out about his tutor's death. He saw himself, packing his clothes and saying goodbye, leaving, to head to New York, to find his luck in the wide world.

The third wing. Winslow in a tiny hotel. Winslow, losing his way in the city. Winslow playing in an empty concert hall, just another lost soul in a city of apathy. Winslow meeting Philbin. Winslow coming to Death Records. Winslow sneaking into Swanage. Phoenix.

The fourth wing. He thought he could taste the blood in his mouth as he was taken back to the policemen, back to Sing Sing, back to his teeth being pulled and his hair being cut. He screamed when the record press closed in around him and cut off...

...the fifth wing. A wave of fear swept over him. He felt pain, he felt sorrow, the absolute insanity from his time as the Phantom, he felt the claustrophobic feeling of the helmet around his head, and he saw Phoenix and reached out to her, but a hundred knives seemed to separate them and she turned to Swan...

The sixth wing. A hospital. A Winter's day in the park. Phoenix, laughing, smiling with him. Happiness. Relief. The Fruits recording with them. Survival.

The seventh wing. He felt the overwhelming joy of holding his child. He felt happiness at the sight of his success. He laughed with William and Brian. He danced with Phoenix at the Winter's Ball. He spotted Antoine in the crowd, but he was no longer malevolent.

The wings turned to ashes as soon as they were no longer connected to him.

"What are you doing?!", the shadow screeched while the hell princes sat in silent shock.

With a final scream Winslow cut off his last wing. The world around him started to twirl. He fell on his knees.

The eighth wing hit him with all it's might. He felt like he was falling or flying. He saw Melody on the rainy road, her pale face reflected by hundreds of water drops - or tear drops? He wasn't too sure. He heard a scream of sorrow. He felt darkness trying to consume him, but there, at the end of the tunnel, there was light and a smaragdine bird rose from the ashes.

"Phoenix," he whispered.

When he looked up he was back in front of the mirror in the bedroom.