#it tastes like a melted candy of sorts but also in the way where Im concerned the candy is spoiled

[dapperrokyuu]

Had (admittedly store-bought) eggnog for the first time in years. Smells like something that narrowly avoided being labelled cough syrup and tastes like trepidation.

[sbawnmendes]

30 things i learned about shawn after 30 q&a's (part 2):

hii, im back with a part 2 because you all seemed to like the first part & i absolutely loved making it! there is always something to learn so im here to share 30 MORE things ive taken away from another set of 30 q&a's on this tour!

(photo creds to owner)

1)  “to be honest with you, i started realizing that people are actually entitled to have their own opinion. they can think i am not good..not everybody is going to like me. i used to get mad & i realized i’m wrong for thinking that they have to think i am good.” that right there is growth. live by your own rules, makes yourself happy & in being happy with yourself, you’ll see that the people that love you & the ones that matter the most will be the ones to stick around. 

2) he owns a pair of crocs which leads me to 3 very important question - why have we never seen him wear these things & what colour are they & does he have any of those cute little charm/pin things in the holes? like a little guitar or something

3) shawn on bullying & the best way to combat it - “this is one problem i have..i remember being in school & i remember hearing ‘if someone is being bullied don’t say anything. step back. don’t get involved. go tell a teacher.. which i also agree with BUT i also think it is very important..if there is a situation going on that could be harmful & you could get hurt, be careful don’t get involved but to show love to people who need to feel the love. there is not enough. we even do this to ourselves..we critique & judge ourselves so much & we don’t love ourselves enough. i think everyone is so scared of being cocky or over the top confident & so scared of telling someone they love them 100 times a day & that is ridiculous because we will be the first to tell someone when they’re doing something wrong & we will be the first to tell ourselves when we are doing something wrong & i think that it is like..in those situations i find that the one who is bullying is the one who needs the most love & the most attention & the most support. we need to focus more on the people who are bullies & why they are & giving them the information as to why they shouldn’t be doing that & how much it is hurting. it is really up to you to choose the path of love for yourself & everyone around you over the path of negativity & hate & that starts with you.”

4) he. is. MeLtiNg.

5) the smell of popcorn makes him DIE on the inside, the drama is seriously expected at this point from sir leo 

6) touch is his love language - ‘LikE HuGs” yes shawn..like hugs 

7) “every time i think something negative i’m like, ‘ooh i’m feeling tired today’ i go, ‘no..could be worse. i could have diarrhea but i don’t’.”

8) forgive yourself.

9) apparently he is too good for chocolate now & sour peaches are his new favourite candy?? leave it to shawn to like the most random candy on this planet

10) his will to live through a zombie apocalypse is high..like 3rd last to live buuuttttt his need to feed is way higher so byebye shawn 

11) he just keeps getting funnier & funnier..i don’t know what brian is putting in shawn’s wheaties in the morning but keep doing it!!  

12) still really wants to eat a bug?? first it was a cricket & now he is telling flies he is going to eat them..some sort of bug whisperer i think. ‘shawn’s bugs be gone’

13) he is “moving away from calling fans honey” (no he isn’t) & suddenly he thinks it is just totally acceptable to call them darling..someone come get romeo over here

14) he is absolutely amazing at expressive faces when he is telling a story in the most dramatic way possible. there is no room for guessing. if he is confused, he is the most confused he has ever been. shocked? literally looks like he survived the electric chair. the look of complete & utter adoration? got that one down pat..where is the ring?

15) 60 shows later, he stretches sooOooo much & still can’t touch his toes 

16) *poses like superman, deepens voice & practically whispers* “mi amor” i know i know,..no need to elaborate (right milo?)

17) no gluten, no dairy, no problem! & thank the LORD he isn’t allergic to dogs anymore *cough cough* @ buzzfeed 

18) he is performing at the area 51 raid so be there or be..abducted (what is this set list going to look like?)

19) he thinks ferb would win over phineas in a fist fight which duh 

20) shawn’s baby fever is at an all time high & has tried to schmooze multiple parents into letting him take their toddlers on tour with him. mom/dad/guardian, need a day off? send your 3 year old off with this extra tall baby across the continent for a few days..i’m sure they’ll be fine! 

21) apparently shawn doesn’t actually look at his clothes before buying them because somehow he managed to buy the weird but oddly cute white t-shirt with the little monsters on it without realizing there was even the drawing on it 

22) treat you better is & always will be “the shit” 

23) mr. attitude. his sass levels are level 108 & it is hilarious..still loves to mock people BUT he combats his sass with the sweetest little interjections or comments whether that be “i love your earrings” or “hello beautiful” or “you’re adorable...i hope you just know that forever you’re adorable”. sour then sweet, kinda like a sour patch kid. sour patch - rockstar edition 

24) remember that one kid in 7th grade that argued with their teacher to the point of tears only to dramatically leave the classroom & run into the bathroom where the teacher had to go after him & get him out? yeah..that was shawn mendes. also “hEy 7tH GRadERs, iT’S sHaWN”

25)  if there was a fire in his house, screw everything & everyone else..the guitars are priority 

26) shawn’s advice on self love - “we spend all day judging ourselves. we will be like, ‘why did i say that that way?’ or ‘why did i laugh like that?’ that’s a very normal thing to do. what we never do is compliment ourselves. every single time you hold the door for someone and they say thanks, you never go, ‘shawn that was really nice of you!’ or someone is walking & you smile at them & they smile back, you probably just made their day but you never walk away like, ‘you’re such a nice person!’ if we spend so much time judging ourselves for things that are wrong, we need to fight that & compliment ourselves every time we do something right. keep a mental track now. wake up in the morning like, ‘i did my hair so nicely today! yeah, looking great!’ compliment yourself & you’ll start gaining a habit of loving yourself as much as you do telling yourself you suck & then your whole life will change.”

27) he does this really cute thing where he says things without thinking & will ramble for like 30 seconds without making any sense & then say something like “i don’t know why i just said that” or “i don’t know what i’m talking about” & basically talks to himself out loud in front of 200 people & it is probably the most endearing thing ever 

28) “there is something about being in love with poison that is super attractive to me”

29) he likes both green & red (purple? i don’t know) grapes because “they all taste the same” & i’m not sure if that was supposed to be a metaphor for ‘no matter what you look like on the outside, were all the same on the inside’ but i’m tearing up either way

30)  shawn bought 30 of his friends, 30 of them, airpods for the bus ride from toronto to nyc for his 21st birthday. 30 friends. 30. rich

[angelily95]

Drowning In You (Pt.2)

"Hey, Yongguk."

You looked up from your half empty glass to the man your boyfriend just called. Yongguk was always around every time you were outside but would never spend time with you when you were home. Despite living under the same roof, you didn't talk much after what had happened between you and Yongguk.

Your boyfriend, Jiho, who was also Yongguk's best friend, offered him a drink which he kindly refused. You rolled your eyes out of annoyance, "Why did you bother coming here if you're not having a drink?" Yongguk was perplexed by your question because usually you would act like he was not around. He didn't appreciate it though because your question attracted your friends' attention. Now they were looking at him with a sarcastic smile, demeaning him.

"I wonder the same too." Jiho further supported your question. "I know you have to guard her but is it necessary to do it when she's with me? I can take care of her. I will keep her safe."

"Tell him, babe." You leaned your body on Jiho's arm, resting your head on his shoulder. Yongguk quickly shifted his gaze away before his emotion showed through his face.

"I'm just doing my job." Yongguk stated, shifting his gaze back to you and your boyfriend because he got his emotion under control.

"It feels weird to have you around when we're out on a date." Jiho let out a snicker like it was a stupid thing to, because it was. Every time you went out with Jiho, he was always there being a third wheel.

"Im sorry but it's my duty." 

***

"Why did you do that?"

No answer.

"Tell me. Why did you do that?"

"Can you stop bothering me? You're so annoying!" You threw the mug into the sink, it did not break but the clashing sound was so loud. A moment of silence.

"Can't you see I'm trying to protect you?" Yongguk exasperatedly followed you to the living room, demanding an answer. You talked to your father about Yongguk's duty and your dating life and your father approved your suggestion to let Yongguk have a leave every time you would go out on a date with Jiho. That's why Yongguk was restless. Ever since he completed his studies and training five years ago, he had never left your side.

"Why are you trying so hard to protect me? No one is out to get me. I have Jiho. I don't need you." Another lie left your lips.

Yongguk opened his mouth to tell you your words hurt like a bullet to his heart but he closed them. Then, he said, "I care about you. I don't want you to get hurt. I just need to make sure you're safe."

"Funny." A chuckle left your lips but your eyes were watering. "You were the one who hurt me the most. No one could hurt and broke me like you did, Yongguk." 

[Flashback]

"Where are we going?" You asked as you rested your chin on his shoulder while he tightened his arms around your legs, he was carrying you on his back. It was a habit both of you developed since you were younger and Yongguk never complained when you demanded to be carried by him. This time, he was the one who wanted to carry you up the hill.

"Somewhere." He simply said, not providing any explanation. You noticed his change in behaviour. He was nervous about something and it looked like he had something to say to you. From the way he carried you up the hill with a beautiful night view and asked you to dress warmly but prettily, you concluded that he was going to confess to you.

You smiled against his shoulder, "Am I not heavy?"

"Not at all. You should eat more." He turned to face you but due to the proximity, his nose brushed against your forehead which made you chuckle. His focus was back to the front when he was approaching a bench that was located there so people can face the city night view. Street lights and lit buildings.

Once you set your feet on the ground, you skipped toward the wooden bench happily and patted the space next to you. Yongguk smiled and took the space next to you.

"It's beautiful but a bit cold." You leaned your body on his arm, seeking for his warmth. Yongguk put his arm around your back and caressed your arm. Your eyes fixed on the romantic view in front of you, next to you was your most favourite person. You couldn't help but be so happy. "Why are we here, Yongguk?" Your smile was hard to hide.

"I've to tell you something." He squeezed your arm like he needed some sort of support and assurance so you placed your hand on his. Your smile grew wider because you thought Yongguk was so dumb. What was he afraid for? Couldn't he see the feelings were mutual? You didn't know when it started but you realized you think of him more than a brother and a friend on the day of your college graduation day. And that was two years ago.

"What is it?" You studied his side profile, eyes lingering on the moles around his eyes, his pointy nose and his lips. His lower lip was a bit thicker than the upper so you playfully tugged at it. Your action didn't faze him as he was used to it.

He turned to you, still hesitating to speak his mind. "I… I…"

"I love you too, Yongguk." You decided to finish it for him because his hesitation was frustrating you. You giggled when his eyes widened and jaw dropped at your confession. You cupped his face and pulled his face down to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Electricity ran through your body, it seemed he was feeling the same because his eyes widened even more like a shock was running up and down his stiff body. You had been waiting to do just that for so long. Your face flushed because it was your first kiss and you were the one who initiated. You regretted nothing though. "I love you too, Yongguk. A lot. I know it's scandalous but it's not wrong for us to be together. My parents like you. I'm sure they don't mind us dating. So, you don't have to worry."

Yongguk gripped your shoulders, trying to push you away but he couldn't. His fear and worries melted away when you placed your lips on his again. That was all the inexperienced you were capable of. The pleasure and excitement didn't last long because guilt was biting on his heart.

"We can't—" He couldn't finish his sentence because you pulled his collar rougher to shut him up.

"It's cold, Yongguk. Kiss me. Keep me warm." You whined softly, eyes twinkled with longing and fondness for the man who was staring into your eyes. "Yongguk…"

Enchanted, Yongguk tilted his head and initiated the third kiss. But it was different from the first two kisses. His kiss was bruising and possessive, tasting and claiming your sweetness as he deepened the kiss like he was running out of time. You clutched on the front of his jacket, whimpering because of the force but had no intentions to pull away. He pulled you closer by your waist so you wrapped your arms around his neck, his strong arms unintentionally brought you up to sit on his lap. The kiss was so warm and tasted like a fresh mint. Yongguk was a smoker so he ate mint candy to clear his breath.

"Yongguk, I love you. I love you." You whimpered between the kisses as if in pain, your heart was aching for him. It was hard to be so close to him when you had to hide your feelings. You wanted this. You wanted to be able to show him how much you cared and loved him. When he let go of your lips to let you catch your breath, you caressed his face, still sitting on his lap with his limbs around your waist.

A pang of pain washed over you when his lovesick expression morphed into something else and it looked like a regret. "Yongguk?" You didn't understand. You cupped his face to make sure he looked into your eyes but his eyes wandered everywhere but your face. 

[End of flashback]

"It wasn't my intention to hurt you." His head dropped, gaze on the floor. He could still taste your sweetness in his mouth. Your soft body on his. Yongguk shook his head to cast the memories away.

"It doesn't matter. Whatever your intention was, I got hurt."

"I am sorry." He apologized again. But his apology wouldn't fix anything. It couldn't unbreak your heart and uncry your tears.

"Why did you kiss me back, Yongguk? Why?" You wished to understand.

"I'll respect your father's decision. Be safe." He bowed and left, leaving you there with a drop of tear flowing down your face. It wasn't the first time you asked him that question and it wasn't his first time avoiding it either.

Part 3

[webcricket]

Winter’s Eye

Pairing: AU!CastielXReader Word Count: 1560 (Ch. VII) Story Summary: Season 13 canon tells you how AU!Castiel’s story ends, this is how it begins. The deranged and damaged iteration of Castiel we met in the apocalypse universe - an obedient soldier to Michael’s cause barely in control of his vessel’s frayed and erratically firing nerves whose inherent kindness toward humankind appeared entirely obliterated - wasn’t always an unfeeling angelic weapon of interrogation. Once, he sympathized with the plight of humans; one, he loved. Outlined for 10 chapters (although, my muse is bad at maths and these things have a way of multiplying). Chapter Summary: As the connection between Cas and the reader finds firmer footing, a link from his past arises to threaten them both.

Previous Chapter: VI

VII.

“Are you kidding me?” The question explodes in a puff of breath on the frozen air; before you unfolds a pristine island of black tarvia, the filtered sun beating down on it with enough heated force to melt the snow anywhere pavement touches. Parking spaces outlined in regular intervals of yellow striping, and a handful of abandoned vehicles, radiate from the mountainous façade of a Mega-Mart.

Surveying the scene through the squinted blue optics of his vessel, Cas casts you a curious knotted-brow glance from where stands at the edge of where forest rings this convenient miracle of civilization seemingly constructed in the middle of nowhere. “Is something funny to you?” he asks, looking between you and a building too empty and too quiet for his instincts to trust; out here you’re exposed - a living breathing target unprotected by a buffer zone of wooded isolation – and he doesn’t like it one iota.

“No-” you laugh, further confusing his brow with the conflict inherent between your answer and attitude- “I guess I was expecting a rinky-dink general store fronting a small town main street. Not this-” You gesture at the looming building, a wonderland promising to contain anything and everything your heart could possibly desire and more. More, that is, beyond the surprise solace of sharing a cabin with your very own personal overly protective angel, of course.

“There is a highway not far from here, and a town like you describe – one whose populace was decimated by werewolves and worse. It’s not safe there or here,” he says gravely. And yet here you are, allowed to tag along against his better judgement because, in a moment of weakness of reason, he let an inexorably extant and angelically errant emotion of fondness for you overrule his head.

“We should hurry-” haste propels his feet forward; he curls a beckoning arm backward- “Stay close.”

You obey, legs scissoring at a trot to try to keep step with his purposeful stride. On level ground, it’s even more punishing a pace than the hike that hurried you here. Feeling the bite of blisters forming on the boney points of your heels and on the tops of your toes, you make note on your mental shopping list to search for a pair of better fitting boots and Band-Aids.

As you thoughts wander, he begins to outpace you. “Hey, where’s the fire?” you pant across the growing gap of distance.

Gradually getting the gist that not all questions you pose want answering given he observes no indications of a blaze in the immediate vicinity, he ignores the query, but not the subtext of comment on his speed, and slows until you catch up.

Approaching the sliding glass doors of the entrance, he notes they are intact and locked just as he last left them. A scattering of stone spilling outward from the threshold, not so accidental as it appears, lies undisturbed.

Strategically speaking, this would be the easiest egress for an intruder to gain entrance inside. The rear and side admittances are steel, chained, and padlocked. Still, with you to watch over, he does not permit these subtle reassurances to soothe his caution.

A flick of two fingers to focus his grace frees the dead bolt. He pries the doors apart with brute strength just far enough to permit you both to squeeze through. On last look out at the parking lot as he secures the doors shut, his regard is drawn heavenward to the horizon to a solitary silvery vapor streaking the otherwise uniformly tarnished gold glow of the sky – a wisp of airy nothingness so slim as to barely be noticed and the sort of smoky linear disturbance a plane would create in its wake as it passed - a contrail disturbing the pressure of the low atmosphere.

Except there are no planes, and there hasn’t been anything save the bodily bound bombs of angels skimming the firmament in flight - or, like him, falling in a smoldering ruin of fate - since the day Michael donned a crown formed by the flayed flesh and bone and souls of billions of humans and the emptied glory of the thousand and more angels who opposed him and whose snuffed existence stains, in a bloodied shadow of once brilliant light, Castiel’s hands.

In the seconds he spends considering the cloud, it dispels in a freshet of cool wind. It wouldn’t make sense, angels scouting here where there is nothing. They’ve done with him, banished him to dwell in and on his defeat, and ever since he etched a warding sigil upon the curved carriage of your ribs, they cannot so much as sense you exist.

Besides, with what you’ve told him of the holdouts of human resistance groups, why waste heavenly resources hunting one human in a haystack of the wild when bigger targets persist.

The tear of a candy bar wrapper loudly resonates in the benumbed and stagnant space; the crumpling of plastic and crunch of chocolate crust is swallowed up as eagerly by the silence as your gullet.

“I missed these,” you mumble and moan in immodest taste bud titillating pleasure around a mouthful of melted sugary goodness as his gaze rounds to seek out the source of the sound.

“Shh-” he scolds; the grit of worry in the warning hushes you instantly.

Terror tightens your throat so that you cannot swallow the amalgam of sugar and saliva held amid your teeth and tongue. Heart seizing, then pounding with such ferocity each ferried beat of fear shudders your frame, bits of brown moisture ooze at the trembling corners of your clinched jaw.

In the depths of the store, somewhere down a darkened aisle, winding to reach his celestially superior discernment, a soft scraping of fabric and rubber soles, slightly sticky on the tiled floor despite the feather-lightness of the footsteps, faintly perforates the calm.

Lashes widened in alarm quickly narrow again in a lethality of resolve; an inner luminance of blue burns in his searching gaze as he shifts a few steps into the eerie fringes of where the window light bleeds into the dimness. When he shakes his sleeve, you see a glint of metal flash into his grip.

Adrenaline opens up your veins and, also oiling your muscles to fight or flee from this place, it permits you to thickly and audibly gulp the wad of partially chewed chocolate nougat.

He extends the hand unburdened by a blade out at you, a movement meaning to say that you should do neither and duck out of sight behind the register.

You misread the purely practical physicality of his request and instead cede to the instinctive tug at your emotions to meet his fluttering fingers halfway, meshing yours into the warm sanctuary of their apertures and securing your other arm through the crook of his elbow to flatten his entire weaponless limb to your chest.

To say the action – a clingy suggestion of deeply rooted trust, concern, and consequently of a firm belief in his ability to shield you in the face of danger - catches him off guard would be an understatement.

However, with a hiss of his name in a tone familiar to him as that of his unwaveringly loyal lieutenant and sister – Rachel – slicing through the dark loud enough, even, for you to hear the anger and resentment whetting the knife of feminine voice, he has no time to analyze the exhilarating effect your embrace and corporal nearness exerts upon his being, nor does he permit more than a speck of added anxiety to alter the determination of his affect.

Pivoting, his typically stony rigidity a balletic display of swiftness, grace, and fluid urgency, he covers your mouth, pins you flush against the waist-high wall of the register, and very briefly steals your breath in the press of his hips against yours. The dynamism of his blues, desperately sparking hue dancing less than an inch from your flared lids, implores you to stay there no matter what happens.

He’s certain she heard you - can hear the wild banging of pulse within your body just as clearly as he can – she is, after all, an angel, and a sometime ally sympathetic to humanity who is not as dead as he presumed and evidently has an axe to grind with him.

If you stay out of her way, you may yet survive. Castiel maintains less hope for himself, and before he found you, he would’ve welcomed whatever retribution she required up to and including his life – a life sunken into meaninglessness and seeped in suffering; but now, staring into your eyes, their pleading concern begging him to be careful, to not leave you alone, he feels reason to fight.

Numbed by panic, limbs turning into immovable lead weights of worry for him, you feebly nod against the electrically charged scent of his skin a promise to stay put for his sake and collapse as he pushes you down to your knees and into the alcove underneath.

You watch the lower portion of his legs retreat from your sight and disappear into the gloom. Straining to hear what is happening, the pain pinching your heart in his absence drums dully in your ears and pulls with each strung and stinging beat at the fluid filling the blisters on your feet.

Castiel tag list:  (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!)    @jeepangel  @sammiesamness  @willowing-love  @blueicevalkyrie   @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11  @thesugargalaxy​    @bluetina-blog​  @dont-trust-humanity​  @afanofmanystuffs  @honeybeetrash​  @bucky-thorin-winchester​  @superwholockz​   @tistai​  @wordstothewisereaders​  @gill-ons​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​  @marisayouass​  @stone-met​   @castiel-savvy18​  @samualmortgrim​  @trexrambling​  @magnificent-mantle​  @kdfrqqg  @xdifsx​   @mandilion76​  @rockfairy​  @peaceloveancolor​  @unicorntrooper​  @anisolatedship​  @itsilvermorny​  @aditimukul​  @kudosia​  @goofynerd-67babylove​  @uninspirationalsonglyrics​  @gray-avidan​  @mishascupcake​   @mishapanicmeow​   @praisecastielamen​  @roseyhxnt​  @jessikared97​  @let-the-imaginationflow​  @warriorqueen1991​   @sebastianstanslefteyebrow   @hisnameisboobear  @kristendanwayne  @fuschiarulerinthebluebox​  @coolpencilpie​  @jenabean75​  @luciathewinchestergirl​  @morganas-pendragons​  @heyitscam99​  @fangirl-and-stuff​  @selahbela  @realgreglestrade​  @splendidcas​  @pointlesscasey​  @i-larb-spooderman​  @thewhiterabbit42​  @thelostverse​  @castieliswatchingoverme​  @beccollie18  @dragonett8  @dixie-chick​  @jtownraindancer​   @carowinsthings​  @passionghost​  @ladyofletters67​ @futureparent​  @gabbie7-11​  @myfandomlife-blog​  @dreamerkim​ @shamelesslydean​  @earthtokace​  @neaeri​  @justanormalangel​  @lone-loba​  @supernaturalymarvel​  @lilrubixx​  @wings-and-halo​  @x-cassiopeia​ @thehoneybeecastielfollows​  @musiclovinchic93​  @81mysteriouslyme​  @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​  @jaylarkson​ @pixiedusts  @spookysculderfiles  @laqueus-ludovicus  @missjenniferb @lexininja  @jessiekay2010   @skrratata  @rhiannonj79  @calicat79

[shuhey-hisagi]

Could I get some headcanons on what Rangiku, Rukia, Renji, Shuhei, and Toshiro's favorite things to do are in the human world when they're not working(I hope that's not too many)?

I was way too excited writing this..

Favorite things to do in the human world

Rangiku Matsumoto:

- It’s a no brainer that she enjoys visiting shopping centers. She’ll drag along whatever poor sap was around her at the time so they can carry all her bags. How she has that much valid currency is a mystery, but she goes all out. She’s interested especially in new make-up and fashion trends.

- She’s all about doing things that make you happy and is a firm believer in the power of retail therapy. Rangiku might pick up several magazines with make up tutorials so that she can practice back at home when she’s bored. She actually becomes really good at make up and her favorite looks usually involve  brown/red eyeshadows and a bold lip. People at the mall confuse her for a social media influencer or model often.

- She’s not Rangiku if she doesn’t hit up the night clubs or bars. She’ll talk some of the girls into going with her. While at the place of business, she has an easy time talking men and women alike into buying her and her friends drinks. It’s a fun night, especially since she’s really outgoing and down to try new things.

- Since she goes to clubs often, she’s developed a taste in a particular sort of night club music genre, so she might ask Ichigo to help her find a certain song or similar songs. He’s less than pleased but tries his best anyways.

- SPA DAYS. After a long night of drinking and dancing, she most definitely will have booked a spa day. I’m talking facials, full body massages, that weird tropical music they play, a complementary jacuzzi for extra pizazz, all of it. She brings along whoever she feels might be having a bad week/needs to destress though. It’s sweet of her, because she acts like she just wants company, but is trying to use something that makes her feel a little better to help someone she loves.

Rukia Kuchiki:

- Rukia enjoys learning about modern ways of life. This involves watching a lot of cute shows on television or picture books. She appreciates animated shows a lot because it’s interesting to her how much work people put into creating such content. It takes her a while to get used to the subtle humor though.

- Definitely someone who would try to go see the tourist sights available and enjoys places like beaches or small hiking trails connected to parks.

- Would probably take Renji and/or Ichigo to an aquarium with her because that’s a whole uncovered field for her and she’s awestruck. She would find a tour guide or worker and badger them with questions the whole time that she’s there.

- She does like spending time with Orihime and her friends. It gives her a sense of belonging, and they are all really sweet and animated in their own ways. It’s a definite break from the strict atmosphere of the Soul Society. She especially enjoys going to the movies or amusement parks with them because she always experiences something new.

- I can see her trying out a yoga class with Renji and making an utter fool of herself. That’s something she’s never going to attempt again... 

- Would definitely be on the look out for anything that she believes her brother may appreciate. Though her sense of style is a little tasteless, she does like to hit up scarf shops or even craft stores that may have odd trinkets that she thinks Byakuya may find (secretly) endearing. Probably has a custom frame made for him.

- She also enjoys spending time with Ichigo. Harassing him has become one of her favorite pastimes and no matter how old he gets, she’s still able to rile him up. It never stops being funny.

Renji Abarai:

- Renji is a mess. He wants to try everything out. He’s passionate about new foods and accessory shops most.

- You can find him strolling through downtown observing a map and trying to find that new sunglasses shop Orihime mentioned. This dude totally gets talked into buying bootleg Ray-Bans or something. He doesn’t really care- brand names don’t mean anything in the Seireitei, so he can get away with sporting some cheesy glasses.

- Likes going out to try new foods with Rukia and the gang. He usually ends up ordering too much and has to get Rangiku to pick up the tag. She does with the threat that he has to pay her back, but she never owns up to it. She secretly doesn’t mind it. 

- At one point he became interested in motorcycles and Chad was trying to help him learn. That ended up as badly as you can imagine. 

- On the off chance that Byakuya is also in the world of the living, Renji tries to break his shell by bringing him to shopping centers or even suggesting a hike that has a nice view. 

- Though his experience at the Urahara shop was iffy, he does like to drop by every now and then with candy or other small gifts for Jinta and Ururu. He’ll never admit it, but he’s become extremely fond of the two and views them as his younger siblings. That being said, it doesn’t mean that the kids are any less lenient on him. He’s still the victim of relentless taunting. He’s learned to be patient with them and usually just gives them the reaction they want because he knows it makes them happy.

- Renji enjoys going to the jazz cafes that Shinji Hirako suggests. He’s grown fond of the music and when he needs some alone time, he can count on the atmosphere to mellow him out.

Shuhei Hisagi:

- There’s this one Shinigami Golden clip where when he was in the world of the living, he brought back Sajin Komamura a brush for his fur. That makes me think he’s usually on the lookout for items that are not available in the Soul Society that he thinks will benefit his comrades. He’s also always tempted to buy other things like sweets or snacks for people he thinks might enjoy them.

- Chad helps him learn how to play that guitar he found. His progress is slow considering he can’t meet up often, but he takes back books and probably has a laptop that he can watch tutorials on. (Chad got a new one so he downloaded videos on it for Shuhei).

- He likes to cook, so he enjoys going to the grocery stores and scoping out produce that he may be able to find back home as well and looks up recipes. He spends a lot of his time at used book stores. 

- Has definitely thought of getting another tattoo or piercing. Scratch that, he got an eyebrow piercing on his gigai and liked how it looks, so when he got back home he decided to get an actual one. Once it healed, he only ever wears jewelry in it occasionally. He’s thought of a nose piercing but is a little too nervous about a cartilage piercing.

- Ichigo was skating once and Shuhei thought it was cool and had Ichigo teach him how to skate. He’s actually a natural at the whole thing and enjoys evening skates through quiet streets. That is, until someone mistakes him for a rival gang member and he ends up being chased. Usually he tries to avoid conflict, but sometimes thugs just deserve getting their asses kicked.

- On that note, Orihime suggested he get rid of the face tattoos on his gigai if he wants to look a little less intimidating, but Shuhei refuses because they’re an important part of him. He does mind that people are intimidated by him, but he’s come to accept that he might not be the most conventional “human”. ( help im crying )

Toshiro Hitsugaya:

- Definitely visits all the grandmas who somehow hav managed to melt his icy demeanor. A few of them don’t get to see their relatives that often, so he makes it a point to stop by when he can. He’ll help around the house or eat the snacks the provide. They usually don’t mind if he takes a nap and often suggest he can take their spare bedroom, though he hasn’t done so yet. He’s tempted.

- Does his best to avoid any other soul reaper who may be in the world of the living. Once the mission is done, he just wants to relax. He’ll spend time at local parks, and sometimes, if Karin spots him, he’ll be talked into a game of soccer.

- Toshiro enjoys feeding stray cats and has done so so many times that even when he’s not in his gigai, the animals can sense him and follow him around. He claims it’s a nuisance but he’s truly happy about it.

- Like the others, he enjoys experiencing new foods. Shaved ice is one of his favorites, but when he found out about frozen yogurt, he was swayed. He’s definitely the type of person who stocks up on snacks from the convenience store then goes back to where he’s staying, locks himself in his room, and proceeds to devour everything and nap.

- I see Toshiro as someone who would enjoy learning new languages and learning about other cultures. He has made i his goal to learn as many languages as possible, and if he’s able to, he’d like to travel to more countries aside from Japan. He’s learning English. Sometimes Chad will teach him some conversational Spanish. He gets a smartphone so he can use apps like Duolingo when he’s in the world of the living, and definitely suggests that the Soul Society should make more technological progress so he can use said apps in a completely separate plane of existence

[dramallamadingdang]

Question Meme: The Run-on Sentence Edition

Hi! I hurt myself again yesterday. No, not in an "self-harm" kind of way but more in the usual (for me) "mountain-climbing incident" sort of way (I hate scree; I was so close to that summit) and got lots of deep bruises and lacerations for my troubles and was in a world of hurt by the time I saw a doctor, and I cracked something that isn't supposed to be cracked and it all hurts enough that I got prescribed narcotics again for a week and I really, really hate narcotics but I really, really like to be able to breathe without feeling like my lungs are being ripped to shreds, so...narcotics it is. 

It might make the answers to this latest iteration of Ye Olde Question Meme rather entertaining, though. Maybe. Maybe just incoherent. Well, whatever, @nekosayuri tagged me, so it's her fault, and I'm bored and my sleep schedule's all outta whack and I haven't even turned on my Simming computer in like three days and am posting this from a non-Simming laptop, so I have nothing else to post and....yeah. So, I'm like high as a kite right now. I mean, it's not totally unusual because I live in Colorado and weed's legal here, but narcotics is a totally different and much less coherent high for me. So, like, fair warning.

I'm not tagging anyone, though. I've no idea who's done this lately...

Name: Katrina

Zodiac Sign: I don't know why I answer this because astrology is a huge crock of BS, but everyone always wants to know so...Taurus. Barely. (Birthday is April 23.)

Height: Still ~6'0"/~182cm. Yay, not shrinking yet!

Languages Spoken: Fluently? At this point, only English. I used to be pretty fluent in Italian and German, but, you know, the saying "use it or lose it" applies, and since I've not had occasion to use those languages much....Well, there we are. I could speak quite a bit of Russian at one time because I spent a chunk of years there, in the late 80s when it was the Soviet Union and shortly thereafter when things were sorta nuts there. But, again, I have lost much of what I once knew. And there are smatterings of other languages that I can speak mostly-useless bits of. I can ask where the restroom is in many languages because I've traveled a lot. :) I do speak fluent bullshit, though...

Nationality: 'Murican. And since 'Muricans are really, really into their "ancestry" for some bizarre-o reason because ‘Murican apparently isn’t good enough...Like, 95% dirty Welsh peasantry (plus some Irish and Scottish thrown in for flavor) on the paternal side and on the maternal side....Well, one of my great-grandfathers was a first cousin of the English Queen Victoria. So basically, my maternal ancestry is the very confused inbred multinational mutt that is European Aristocracy. God only knows what’s in their genes, though my particular bit of it has lots o’ German. 

Favorite Fruit: Okra. It is a fruit. Look it up. Then again, much of what people call "vegetables" is, in fact, fruits, so there's that.

Favorite Scent: I've never really thought about this except when this was a question on a previous iteration of this meme that I did, and I don't remember what answer I came up with then. So I'm just gonna say...Vanilla-scented candles. Not cheap ones that just smell sickly-sweet sort-of-vanilla-y, but these ones that I buy online that smell...well...NOT sickly-sweet and like how vanilla really smells. Alternatively...snickerdoodles when they're baking. Hubby is baking me some snickerdoodles as I speak. Type. Whatever. The house smells really good. Baking bread is good, too. Before the snickerdoodles, hubby was baking the twice-weekly loaf of sourdough.

Favorite Color: Green. And/or orange. I go back and forth about which is really my favorite.

Favorite Animal: Elephants. Or hyenas. Or cats of all shapes/sizes. Or alpacas. Or llamas. Or snakes. Or spiders of all kinds. Or dragonflies. Or...Um, yeah,  I'm pretty much a fan of all vertebrates and terrestrial invertebrates and some aquatic/oceanic invertebrates, too, so...take your pick.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate? Hot chocolate all the way. I don't drink coffee because A) I think it tastes and smells disgusting, but even if that wasn't the case B) I can't have caffeine. Tea is OK. Hubby's way into herbal tea, grows/collects and dries herbs and makes his own blends and shit, and I'll drink it mostly to make him happy, but I'm not into it. I do like hot chocolate, though it's hard to find premade mixes that don’t have powdered milk in them (because I’m vegan), so I generally have to make it from scratch, so to speak, and when I do I use cashew milk as the base and I usually add either peppermint or vanilla extract for zing.

Favorite Fictional Character: Can't really pick a fave. So, have a list, probably but perhaps not really in preference order. Spock from Star Trek, who's been a fave of mine since I was 3 and was watching the original Trek in its initial run, and I announced I'd marry Spock one day. Rodney McKay from Stargate: Atlantis and Vala Mal Doran from Stargate SG-1. (Basically, if you cut up those two and glue various bits of their characters together -- and not necessarily their good bits -- you have...me. So I relate really well to both of them, so I like 'em.) Also Jack O'Neill from Stargate SG-1, but he's mostly for reasons of estrogen. (Especially if you stick 'im in dress blues. HUBBA!) Garak from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine because Cardassians Are Love. Jayne from Firefly, also for reasons of estrogen. Big, hairy, dark hair, blue eyes, solid but not too muscle-y...Yep, that's how I likes my men. And Zoe from Firefly, 'cuz OMG she's how I likes my women. HUBBA!

Dream Trip: *sigh* Still Antarctica. It's the only continent I've not been to, and I will get there before I croak, but...not yet.

When was your blog created? IIRC, it was, like, the middle of December 2013. So, I'll have had this thing 5 years soon.

Last Movie You’ve Seen: I couldn't sleep one day like a week ago, so I put on Miss Congeniality, which is one of my favorite movies because Michael Caine. When I can't sleep, I'll usually put on a really familiar movie or TV show and it lulls me to sleep, but it didn't work that time. :(

Song You’ve Had on Repeat: Englishman in New York, by Sting. I have no idea why, but it's been on repeat in my head, though I haven't actually played it lately or anything.

Favorite Candy: Not much of a sweets kind of person. I prefer salty-crunchy. I can eat a whole big bag of crisps (Like, the British ones, which are way better than American potato chips, but American ones will do) easily, but I can't even get through a whole candy bar because, ew, too sweet. That said, I do like Flake bars, but I have to go up to Canada to get 'em. Or else buy 'em online but then usually by the time I get them they're kinda smashed. Or melted. Or both. Better to go up to Canada. Where they have real chocolate and not this sickly-sweet Hershey's crap. *shudder*

Favorite Holiday: When in Canada, Canada Day is quite fun. It's like July 4th only not so...well...chest-beatingly, yahoo-y, "patriotic" 'Murican. (I really, really dislike nationalism and "patriotism" in general but especially the obnoxious 'Murican brand of it.) When in the UK, I have a fondness for Guy Fawkes Night. I guess I like fire and fireworks and things that go boom and shit, only without the "YAY AMERICA!" yelling of America's own "things that go boom" holiday. Other than that...Can't really say I'm into 'em much. They're not even "days off from work" since...Well, I've never had a "real job," and I'm pretty much retired from my unreal job these days.

Last Book You’ve Read: *cough* Does a really long and smutty and slashy Stargate: Atlantis fanfic count? I'm sad to say that, though I was a voracious reader of books when I was younger, I'm really not so much these days. Haven't been for the last decade or so, really. Not of actual books, at least. I do subscribe to and read a number of academic journals, some having to do with science and medicine and some having to do with history, but they're not books. 

Favorite TV Show: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, mostly because it has Cardassians, who are all uniformly awesome, plus all the gritty political and religious goodness and stuff. Except that its last season kinda sucked and did totally WTF things with my second-favorite Cardassian. Close runner-up would be Stargate: Atlantis. Except that its last kinda season sucked, too, and did totally WTF things with McKay, so hmmm. Stargate SG-1 is good, too, except that half its team annoys the piss outta me...although this is largely made up for by the hotness that is Jack O'Neill so there's that. I like Firefly a lot but it was so short-lived that it's hard to really be a favorite because I can watch the whole thing, including the movie, in less than a day. (And believe me. I have.) I like the other Star Treks, too, especially if I'm in the mood for the "goofy soap opera in space" that is Voyager. TNG's shiny-happy Roddenberryness kinda bores the piss outta me, though it does have a few really good episodes, and the original show...Hmmm...Well, I both love and hate it. I love Spock, as I said, and I also love McCoy and all of its secondary characters. The problem is that I hate Kirk. Like, viscerally hate him. Like, I want to punch his face in every time it's on-screen. If he'd just, y'know, been eaten by a salt vampire and Spock and everyone else was OK and went off and had cool space adventures battling giant space-going amoebas and shit, I'd be totally happy and that's what fanfic's for *cough*, but since Kirk doesn't get eaten by a salt vampire...well...

Who’d You Most Like to Have Lunch With? @holleyberry :) Dude, we should totally hook up (No, not THAT way!) when I'm in SoCal next. Which won't be soon if I have my way, but when I am there....

[m-feys]

ok heres one of my torchwood wips T-T bc im feeling smth, its about ianto and rhiannon in my ianto lives au

-

Ianto sat down across from her, he’d already taken off his coat and she’d already set a cuppa out for him. This was starting to become routine, and Ianto was beginning to feel intimidated by that fact. It’s more than they’ve ever had between them, more truth and more connection, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

After the 456 he’d vowed to himself to visit her more often, especially being sure to spend time with the kids. Mica was still consumed by the Xbox most afternoons when he entered, but when they went out to the movies, she would chatter on the way back about all her favorite parts, particularly the explosions, and David would threaten to steal her candy but would always give some of his to her instead and Ianto cherished it. He found that those times also made him painfully nostalgic for his own childhood, but it was a minor note in a bigger concert.

On his visits to see Rhiannon, she mostly did the talking. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them. He gave comment where it was needed to keep her talking and listened as she gossiped about her friends and which of the neighbour’s kids kept climbing through the fence across the street.

And Rhiannon wasn’t subtle, she never, ever, had been. So when she asks about Torchwood it’s always, “Heard everybody was seeing these great, big halos the other night, that one of yours?” And when she tries to nudge him into mentioning Jack, it’s, “that boss of yours, he treatin’ you alright?” Ianto gets the feeling if he said that Jack had /not/ been treating him right she might have offered to beat his face for him. That idea makes him feel ridiculously fond.

“He’s treating me perfectly well, thank you,” he answers each time, she knows better than to think she’s getting more than that. Especially with Johnny sitting in the recliner behind them, mocking the enemies in Mica’s video game.

Johnny’s out today though, and even though he already knows, Ianto refuses to mention anything remotely informative about his life with the man in earshot. He doesn’t hate him, respects him a great deal more after the incident with 456, in fact, but the man is far too loud, about /everything/, for Ianto’s tastes.

Mica, who has her friend with two mums, is still situated on the couch when Rhiannon speaks.

“And how’s that man of yours?”

Ianto falters, because this is a break in the pattern.

“He’s fine…” he answers awkwardly, “he’s not… /mine/,” he points out reluctantly, heartbeat speeding up and cataloging the most logical excuses to leave at any given second.

“Really?” she asks, mouth curling up slightly, “you seein’ other people, then?”

Ianto shrugs, floundering like he always seems to when he’s trying to explain his current life to Rhiannon, to put it in terms she can cope with, ideas that aren’t too outrageous. “He said…” he starts slowly, letting out a breath through his nose, “he said he would stay,” he admits softly. It’s not much of his life, but it’s not nothing, not by a long shot. At least this is /true/.

Her eyebrows go up, lips parting in surprise, still smiling, almost edging into a grin now. “That’s big?”

Ianto doesn’t break his mask of neutrality, but he relaxes it just a bit, “yes,” he breathes.

“So it’s a bit like he /is/ your man, then?” she points out, wrinkling her nose with a smile, teasing.

He sighs, taking care to ensure he sounds supremely put-upon. “If you insist on calling him that, then /yes/.” Inwardly, he’s grinning like a git, hearing people refer to them in romantic terms always sends butterflies through Ianto’s stomach, and hearing it from his sister is making that feeling even more precious. He cares what she thinks of him, even if for a long time he wished he hadn’t.

“Well, seein’ as you haven’t even told me his name, I gotta call him something.”

Ianto hesitated, then he supposed that there couldn’t be any harm in just one name, it was a fairly common one, after all, that was by design on Jack’s part.

“Jack,” he allows.

“Jack,” she repeats, sounding the name out curiously, grinning all the while.

---

The question turns into, “well, how’s Jack?” from then on, and Ianto suddenly regrets everything. He’s crossed lines he can’t uncross and his /sister/ is referring to Jack by name, with the knowledge that he’s his boss, and also maybe his /man/, and all other sorts of euphemisms she could come up with to refer to them. /What/ had he been /thinking/?

“He’s fine,” is all he says. The fifth time after hearing that for an answer, Rhiannon demands more.

“You can’t just say that every time! C’mon, tell me something about him. Just something tiny,” she goads, “something you like about him.”

Ianto contemplates this question, all the multitudes of things he likes about Jack. The way he smells, that coat, his smile, his laugh, his hands, the way they can talk without talking, and the way they could also just talk to each other for hours on end. The way he sleeps, and how he mumbles sometimes as he dreams. How he talks low when they’re alone, just for Ianto. The way his hands always reach to cradle Ianto’s face when they kiss before touching elsewhere. How sometimes Jack is so harsh like the sea in a storm and sometimes he’s as gentle as summer waves lapping at the beach.

Ianto blinks away from these thoughts, focusing back in on the moment. /Everything/, he wants to say. Which is completely ridiculous, and terribly cliche, and not even /remotely/ true, considering how many things about Jack piss him off so acutely.

“He’s funny,” he settles on, because Jack is. He’s a people pleaser, a charmer. “You’d like him,” he adds mildly. Because Ianto is sure Jack could get on Rhiannon’s good side without even blinking.

“You should let me meet him, then,” she responds to that, looking a bit too proud of herself for reaching this point.

“Absolutely not,” he denies instantly, frowning at her. She glares in return.

“Why not?”

Ianto flattens his mouth in displeasure, “we’re not really in the ‘meeting-the-family’ stage of the relationship,” he tells her, he does not imagine they’ll ever be. Considering he learned about Jack’s daughter because of a hostage situation and every other family member he has is either dead, 3000 years in the future, or cryogenically frozen after irrationally blaming Jack for everything that happened to him.

“Have you told him you’ve been coming to see me?” she questions. He stares at her for a moment, bewildered about what she thinks she’s going to gain from this.

“Yes,” he answers, still uncomprehending, “why?”

“Well, will he think you’re hiding him away from me?” she asks him boldly.

Ianto can’t help but roll his eyes, “Rhiannon, we’re not like that, I’ve said.”

She huffs a sigh in frustration, “Ianto, you don’t tell me anything about all your alien business or the guy you're dating-- who’s also your boss! And it doesn’t seem like there's much to ask about otherwise! It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall!”

“Brick wall might be a bit reliable,” he snarks, the words are brittle in his mouth.

She deflates, “just tell me something,” she pleaded, “I wanna be a part of your life, I don’t just wanna sit here all day telling you ‘bout how Bridget’s cookies were burnt and how we had to replace the dryer after Mica’s ‘science experiment.’ I want to hear from you too!” She exclaimed.

He softened at the words, not able to help his smile at the mention of Mica’s latest explosion. “You are a part of my life,” he assured her, “and I like hearing about that stuff,” he adds with a lift of his shoulder.

She softens too then, giving him a wry smile, “something small?” she requests.

He thinks this over, then, “we caught an acid spitting alien and it melted through all our cells until we realized we should just freeze it.”

The look on her face is priceless, her mouth dropping open in disbelief before barking out a startled laugh. “how big was it?” she asked, raising her brows.

“Not very,” he said, “but it was a nasty little bugger.”

She looked at him, grinning pleased, “anything else you wanna tell me?”

He thought it over, then sighed heavily, “I’ll ask Jack,” he allowed.

Her brows shot up.

“I’m not promising anything,” he tacked on instantly, “he’s probably going to say no, and when I come back and tell you he said no, you leave it at that, alright?” He told her firmly, voice kept low, though still, Mica was the only one in the room. A strange little fly on the wall who he could never quite sense if she was listening or not.

“Alright, alright, I promise,” she agreed, but still, she looked so happy. It would be worth it, he supposed.

“My sister keeps asking after you,” Ianto mentions off-handedly when they’re working idly, Martha is out of earshot and Gwen and Tosh were off setting up scanners around the area of a predicted rift spike. Jack was leaning against his desk flipping through a stack of files when he glanced up.

“Oh?” he started, brows raised and setting aside the files, easily interested when he was the subject of conversation, “what do you tell her about me?” he questioned, his cheek dimpling as he started to smile, “all good things, I hope.”

“I told her you’re funny,” Ianto said, glancing over at him too, still perched on his desk but looking only at Ianto now.

Jack gives him a haughty look, “so, /that’s/ what I’m known for?” he questions, mock-offended but he still smirks at Ianto while he waits for an answer.

“You could be a stand-up comedian,” he suggests dryly.

“We’d have to be a two person show, you’d be my straight-man,” he says grinning, acknowledging their chemistry.

“I’m afraid I may not fit the bill,” Ianto counters flatly and Jack cackles, pushing off the desk now, to approach him.

“Damn,” he curses mildly once he reaches Ianto, shaking his head in faux-disappointment at their lack of compatibility as a comic duo. “Say anything else about me?” he prompts helpfully as he stands just a little too close to Ianto’s side.

Ianto hesitates, licking his lips, “she asked about meeting you,” he admits.

“Really?” Jack said. Ianto couldn’t quite look at him, so he diverged his eyes to the words on the screen, not reading any of them as he scrolled a little further.

“Yes…” he says slowly, trying to look distracted and not at all like he’s sweating, “she’s very insistent, but I already told her it wasn’t--”

“When?” Jack asks, then.

“-- in the cards, I mean, we…” he froze, turning his head now to gape at Jack, “/what/?” he asked sharply.

“When would she wanna meet me?” Jack asked cooly, raising one eyebrow at Ianto’s current expression. He snapped his jaw shut, still staring at Jack, brows pulled low as he studied his face.

“... You’d meet her?” Ianto asked slowly, still looking him over.

“If you let me,” Jack supplied easily, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Ianto evenly.

He narrowed his eyes at him wondering if somehow this was some strange trick. “You’re /willing/ to meet my sister? As my, um--” He struggled to find the right word.

“Boyfriend?” Jack suggested, teasing sharply.

“I don’t /know/ what to call us,” Ianto countered, staring him down, even as heat rose in his cheeks.

“What do you /want/ us to be called?” Jack challenged him, raising a brow.

‘/Boyfriends/,’ Ianto’s mind instantly supplied but he kept his mouth shut as he watched Jack, trying to puzzle him out.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to meet them…?” he asked him and Jack raised both his eyebrows now.

“Ianto, /you/ were the one who didn’t want me near them and I was respecting that,” Jack pointed out, looking serious now.

“I didn’t--” Ianto started to deny, but then realized Jack was right, for a very long time, Ianto never mentioned a word about them and never wanted anything remotely to do with Torchwood anywhere near the last of his family, /Jack especially/. He pressed his lips together and Jack raised his brows pointedly, mouth pinched.

Ianto glared at him then, “well, what about you?” he asked sharply, “you hate us even being considered a couple and now you’re suddenly fine with meeting my family-- who-- I might remind you, is under that assumption about us. Sorry about that,” Ianto tacks on sarcastically, not intending to sound as bitter about it as he does.

“I never said I hated people thinking we were a couple!” Jack looked taken aback by the assertion.

“Yes you did,” Ianto countered, voice rising, suddenly angry that Jack seemed to think he was the one who was coming out of nowhere with this, “you /told me/ you hated that word!”

“Yes, I /hate/ that /word/,” Jack threw his hands up, experated, “I think it’s stupid and small-minded to refer to a pair of people like they’re one thing! But, Ianto-- by all earth definitions-- /yes/ we do fit under that umbrella. I don’t /care/ if people think of us as a ‘couple!’”

Ianto stared at him, reeling at the confession and trying to ground himself, “what, um, what do /you/ think of us as, then?” he asked cautiously.

Jack stared at him, swallowing, “Partners?” he suggested softly.

“/Partners/?” Ianto repeated in disbelief.

Jack nodded stiffly, squinting at him. “But you don’t seem thrilled with that.”

Ianto was quick to shake his head, “no. Partners, that’s fine, I’m good with partners,” he rushed the words out, not wanting to give Jack time to realize his mistake and take any of this back.

But Jack’s brows creased in concern, “if you have a word you prefer…?” Jack prompted him, raising his eyebrows now in anticipation, surely already knowing what Ianto wanted to say and waiting for him to admit it.

Ianto studied him for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the word /partners/; it was succinct, simple, made sense in so many situations, and didn’t sound quite as silly as ‘boyfriends’. He could easily see why Jack had chosen it, it was the logical option. But there was something too clinical about it for Ianto’s tastes, something that skipped past the way Ianto would wake up too warm with Jack wrapped around him. That term missed out on the simple truths for Ianto, like how he and Jack had an unfinished puzzle sitting on his coffee table, waiting for them in spare moments when they sat down to talk. Or how Jack knew exactly how to fluster Ianto without fail and Ianto could snark back just as easily. Or how these days he knew exactly how to find his way through Jack’s bunker without needing the light and Jack no longer needed to ask where anything was kept in the kitchen of his flat, both of them perfectly familiar with the other’s spaces. It was all the little intimate things they had become that Ianto never ever wanted to skip over, that got brushed past by that word.

“Boyfriend?” Ianto answered hopefully, heart pounding too loudly in his chest.

“Then we’re boyfriends,” Jack agreed, before dropping a hand to Ianto’s shoulder and drawing him into a hug. Ianto returned it, letting out a breath.

“I think we made that harder than it had to be,” Jack sighed next to his ear.

“Just a bit,” Ianto agreed, mouth pressed into his shoulder, still a little shocked it had been just that easy.

Stepping away, Jack was quick to smile at him again, “alright, back to work,” he chided teasingly, wagging a finger at him and turned to stride back towards his office. He paused though as he reached the door.

“And let me know when I’m going to meet Rhiannon, I want to look my best,” Jack told him, grinning widely.

As happy as Ianto was that Jack was so clearly, explicitly, completely unequivocally willing to commit to him, Jack and Rhiannon actually meeting wasn’t a real possibility he’d considered until just now.

“Oh, god,” he murmured in horror, turning away from Jack laughing at him.

Which is how he ended up standing at the door to his sister’s house, with Jack at his side, steeling himself to knock.

“Want me to ring the doorbell?” Jack offered unhelpfully beside him.

“Doesn’t work,” Ianto responded instantly.

“/Soooo/, are we just gonna stare at the door, then? Until it falls off the hinges… or?” Jack whispered, teasing him.

“I’m /going/ to knock,” Ianto told him firmly, before glancing over at Jack. Despite what he’d said about looking his best, he was wearing what he always wore. A blue button-up, slacks and his signature coat. With a black vest added to the ensemble, he /occasionally/ branched out in his fashion choices.

“Be on your best behavior,” Ianto instructed him sternly, catching his eye and Jack just grinned at him.

“Aren’t I always?”

Ianto let out a drawn-out sigh.

“I can go sit in the car if you want,” Jack suggested then, voice wry. “You can just crack the window for me so I won’t die from heatstroke.”

Ianto’s lips twitched at that, “I hate that we have the same sense of humor,” he muttered, smirking.

“Good thing you told her I was so /funny/, then,” Jack responded sarcastically.

Ianto knocked, without further preamble, cutting off any more banter Jack could spout, which was an infinite amount, because he was /Jack/.

A moment later, Rhiannon was opening the door, beaming at them.

“Come in, come in,” she spoke, stepping back and waving both of them inside, Jack smiled back at her charmingly all the while.

The only conditions Ianto had agreed to their meeting was it being between solely Rhiannon, Jack and himself. They could have gone out to meet somewhere, but it had been decided, by Rhiannon, that they would be more comfortable in her house. Ianto suspected she also wanted to give him less room to evade her.

The only time the kids and Johnny were all out of the house was on a weekday, but so long as the rift wasn’t predicted to get out of hand, he and Jack could find free-time on any day of the week, just as well as a weekend. Better even, cause none of the others tended to have plans.

“You /and/ your boss can get off in the middle of the week?” She sounded doubtful.

“This job isn’t exactly nine-to-five,” Ianto responded, “we’ll leave if we get called in.”

“You’d better not get called in,” she warned him and he couldn’t help but snort in response.

Now as he stepped out of the entryway and stared at the completely rearranged living room he couldn’t help but sort of wish Mica were there playing games as always, it was strangely disconcerting with her gone. The couch was pushed forward, bean bag chairs were nowhere in sight, but probably fit to burst from being stuffed in the hallway closet. In front of the couch was the coffee table, which had long since been pushed against the wall after David fell onto it when he and Mica were running through the house and cracked the glass with his head. His head had been fine, thankfully. And at an off angle to the couch was Johnny’s recliner, all situated so they could comfortably look at one another while they talked.

Ianto was starting to regret that he hadn’t just lied, telling Rhiannon instead that Jack said no, but they were here now, no turning back.

“Tea for you?” she asked, lifting the electric kettle and already pouring water for herself and Ianto as she always did, but now there was a third cup to join theirs.

“You got any coffee?” Jack answered and Rhiannon looked up at him in surprise when he spoke. The accent, Ianto realized, must have caught her off guard.

“Sorry, no,” she smiled apologetically with a shake of her head, recovering well enough.

“Tea’s good then,” Jack agreed with an ever-pleasant smile.

“Ianto didn’t mention you were American?” she said curiously, staring at Jack while Ianto reached for all of their teacups to move them to the coffee table.

“I’m sure there’s plenty Ianto didn’t mention about me,” Jack replied easily, “he’s quiet, this one.”

Rhiannon laughed, and Ianto was sure to give Jack a withering look as soon as he caught his eye, which was received with a demure smile.

She ushered them to the couch then and settled into the recliner herself, squishing into the worn cushions. Jack looked perfectly at ease next to him while Ianto was stiff as a board. It was sort of funny, considering he wasn’t the one in an unfamiliar house meeting his partner’s family for the first time.

“Captain Jack Harkness,” he introduced himself, and shook her hand before taking his seat, “pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Davies.”

She stared at him for a moment with eyes pulled wide, grinning wildly. “Oh please, call me, Rhiannon,” she corrected him.

“Call me Jack,” he said, grinning in kind.

“So, tell me about yourself, then,” Rhiannon invited him, smiling winningly.

“Well, I think Ianto’s mentioned that we work together,” Jack began.

“Said you’re his boss,” Rhiannon agreed, “how much older are you, exactly?” She wondered, eyes narrowing sharply.

Jack didn’t look at all perturbed by the question, just opened his mouth to answer, but Ianto spoke first, “he’s in his thirties,” he supplied.

“Thirty-six,” Jack agreed, not missing a beat. Ten-year age difference, it was accurate /physically/, at least.

“How’d you two come about then, after working together?”

Jack glanced at him, smiling easily. He was letting Ianto take the lead here, he realized, and he would follow up to however much or little Ianto wanted to tell her.

“It was…” Ianto started to speak, “I came back to Cardiff for work, when I met Jack,” he said carefully.

“Transferred facilities and came to work under me instead,” Jack looked at him again, smiling affectionately, “and I’m grateful he did.” Ianto really was losing track of exactly how much of this was a show Jack was putting on for her, but he’d still managed to slip a double entendre in there.

“Was it hard?” she asked curiously, “being the first man Ianto was with?” It was a bold question, a bit tactless, but Jack wasn’t one to shy away from these topics, and neither was Rhiannon, clearly.

Jack glanced at him. He knew it was a blatant lie on Ianto’s part, that Jack was the only man he’d been with, but Ianto knew he wouldn’t say anything. It was just easier, telling Rhiannon the things she would prefer to hear than actually trying to explain himself to her.

“Not at all,” Jack answered, looking at his sister again, smiling warmly, “I know how to take things slow.”

Ianto rolled his eyes /hard/ at that. Completely ridiculous.

“Ianto, ‘ave you got something to add?” Rhiannon wondered sharply, and of course, then of all moments she had to be watching him.

He gave her a sardonic smile, “nothing at all, Rhi. It’s just funny! Why Jack just might just be the most /polite/ man you’ll ever meet,” he said, his sarcasm was impossible to miss.

“You told me /‘best behavior,’/” Jack hissed at him.

“Well, you sound completely ridiculous,” he pointed out in return.

“I’m just going off what /you/ said! What /exactly/ would you like me to tell her, Ianto?” He invited him sharply.

He frowned, glancing from Jack staring at him intently to Rhiannon watching them with a confused smile pulling at her mouth. At least she didn’t seem as mortified as Ianto was feeling right at this moment.

He crossed his arms and faced his sister, looking her dead in the eye.

“Jack is the strangest man I’ve ever met, and he’s not polite at all, he makes lewd jokes and chews with his mouth open. If you’re going to meet him, I at least want you to /actually/ meet him,” he says, sighing with finality and knowing his face has gone completely red.

“Well, there you go,” Jack agrees with a sweeping gesture, an amused smile playing on his lips.

Ianto has realized as comfortable as it is to lie to her about this, he wants her approval, and that really means nothing if he’s not at least a little bit honest. He’s been trying to be that with Rhiannon for a while now, but he didn’t know how to explain that to Jack.

But Rhiannon was laughing then, giggling, really. “Well, the only other things you told me ‘bout him were that he’s handsome and funny, so I think maybe I’m starting to get something outta you, for once,” she looks happy now smiling at Ianto and he tries to smile back.

“So, I’m /also/ known for being handsome, then?” Jack intercuts, his voice turning sly.

Ianto turns a flat look on him, resolutely ignoring the way his face is still flushed, “I was only confirming the rumors.”

“And who exactly was starting rumors about how handsome I am?”

“/Her/ nosey friends who don’t know how to mind their own business,” Ianto shot back.

“Oi!” Rhiannon objected. Ianto turned his deadpan stare on her instead now, inviting her to argue with his statement. They both knew he was right.

“Not like I ever would have heard about this from you,” she argued back, gesturing towards him.

Ianto scowled at her, before scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know, Rhi, maybe, maybe if you’d given me time I could’ve explained it better,” he said, giving her a pained look now.

“Well, how would you explain it now, if you told me?” she asked insistently.

He froze up at that, his eyes strayed to Jack then, who was simply watching him calmly, a solid presence by his side. He looked back towards her then, swallowing thickly.

“I... fell in love with a man, Rhi,” he admitted slowly, and it wasn’t something he hadn’t said to Jack already, but telling her so plainly should be completely unimaginable, yet here he was, doing just that. “As much as you might doubt it, I do /actually/ care how you think of me.”

Her brows drew up in concern, “that would never change how I think of you,” she said, and she sounded so earnest.

“Rhiannon,” he sighed, smiling sadly now, “it /always/ changes how people think of you.”

She stared at him for a long moment, looking like she couldn’t comprehend what he was telling her. “You’re my /brother/ Ianto, nothing will change that.”

“What about Johnny?” he countered sharply, “do talk about me with him? What does he say, I wonder?”

She glared at him furiously at those words, “Johnny doesn’t hate you, Ianto! He likes you just as well as he always has,” she objected.

“It’s not just about /hating/ people, Rhiannon. It’s about all those little things. About how /strange/ it is, and how you’re just now thinking I’ve always been a little too over-emotional, that I cried just too much, or that I was always too /weak/,” he bit out the word. “I can’t /stand/ it. If you just hated me Rhiannon, it’d be easier,” he said, the truths just pouring out of him now as he stared her down, “Then I wouldn’t have to be here right now.”

Her face had gone slack with surprise and Jack wasn’t watching him anymore, only staring cooly out into the room, looking completely unfazed.

Ianto’s heart was racing like he’d just run a marathon and he waited. Waited for her to say something.

“If you don’t want to come ‘round, Ianto, all you had to do was say,” she spoke finally, her voice was soft and filled with solemn resolve. He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration.

“I /do/ want to be around you, Rhiannon,” he rushed to correct her, “but I’m just,” he floundered for the words looking for the right thing to say.

He took a shaky breath and when he glanced at Jack, this time the man was looking at him with that steady gaze, expectant.

“I’m just /scared/,” he admitted finally and the corners of Jack’s lips lifted ever so slightly for him, a small comfort just for Ianto to see. He looked back at Rhiannon, meeting her gaze.

“Well, you don’t have to be,” She suggested quietly.

He let out a breath, lowering his eyes again. In a way, she was right, but she still didn’t understand. She never would, not really.

“Well,” Jack broke the moment suddenly, “I’m just glad I was here to serve as a catalyst for this heartwarming breakthrough between brother and sister,” he spoke, smirking between them. Though Ianto got the sense Jack knew he was saving Ianto from having to come up with another answer to Rhiannon’s assurances.

Rhiannon gave the man a wide-eyed look, a confused grin pulling at her lips now, she shot Ianto a questioning look.

“Yes,” he answered, being sure to sound spectacularly put-upon as he said it, though in truth he just felt ridiculously fond, “he’s always like this.”

“And he /loves/ me for it, you heard the man,” Jack teased.

Rhiannon laughed and Ianto let himself relax, just for a moment.

[blackgoddessofsassiness]

Cupcake Wars

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